Grace sat by my side, her arm locked in mine; she was motionless with fear; her eyes had the fixed8 look of the sleep-walker's, nor will I deny that my own terror was extreme; for imagining that I had heard a shriek9, I believed that my men had been washed overboard, and that we two were locked up in a dismasted craft that was probably sinking—imprisoned10, I say, by reason of the construction of the companion cover, which, when closed, was not to be opened from within.
I waited a few minutes with my lips set, wondering what was to happen next, holding Grace close to me, and harkening with feverish11 ears for the least sound of a human voice on deck. There was a second blow—this time on the yacht's bow—followed by a sensation as of every timber thrilling, and by a bolt-like thud of falling water, but this time well forward. Immediately afterwards I heard Caudel shouting close against the skylight, and I cannot express the emotion, in truth, I may call it the transport of joy, his voice raised in me. It was like being rescued from a dreadful death that an instant before seemed certain.
I continued to wait, holding my darling to me; her head lay upon my shoulder, and she rested as though in a swoon. The sight of her white face was inexpressibly shocking to me, who very well knew that there was nothing I could say to soften12 her terrors amid such a sea as the yacht was now tumbling upon. Indeed, the vessel13's motions had become on a sudden violently heavy. I was never in such a sea before; that is to say, in so small a vessel, and the leaping of the craft from peak to base, and the dreadful careering of her as she soared, lying down on her beam ends to the next liquid summit were absolutely soul subduing14.
It was idle, however, to think of going on deck. I durst not leave my darling alone lest she should swoon and be thrown down and injured, perhaps killed; whilst, for myself, the legs of a man needed a longer apprenticeship15 to the sea than ever I had served, or had the faintest desire to serve, to qualify him for such capering16 planks17 as these, and I was quite sure that if I wished to break my neck I had nothing more to do than to make an attempt to stand.
Well, some twenty minutes, or, perhaps, half an hour passed, during all which time I believed every moment to be our last, and I recollect18 cursing myself for being the instrument of introducing the darling of my heart into this abominable19 scene of storm in which, as I believed, we were both to perish. Why had I not gone ashore20 yesterday? Did not my instincts advise me to quit the sea and take the railway? Why had I brought my pet away from the security of the Rue21 de Maquétra? Why, in the name of all the virtues22, was I so impatient that I could not wait till she was of age, when I could have married her comfortably and respectably, freed from all obligations of ladders, dark lanterns, tempests, and whatever was next to come? I could have beaten my head upon the table. Never did I better understand what I have always regarded as a stroke of fiction—I mean the disposition23 of a man in a passion to tear out his hair by the roots.
At the expiration24, as I supposed, of twenty minutes, the hatch cover was opened, this time without any following screech25 and blast of wind, and Caudel descended26. Had he been a beam of sunshine he could not have been more welcome to my eyes. He was clad from head to foot in oilskins, from which the wet ran as from an umbrella in a thunder-shower, and the skin and hue28 of his face resembled soaked leather.
"Well, Mr. Barclay, sir," he exclaimed, "and how have you been getting on? It's been a bad job; but there's nothen to alarm ye, I'm sure." Then catching29 sight of Grace's face, he cried, "The young lady ain't been and hurt herself, I hope, sir?"
"Her fear and this movement," I answered, "have proved too much for her. I wish you would pull off your oilskins and help me to convey her to the lee side there. The edge of this table seems to be cutting me in halves," the fact being that I was to windward with the whole weight of my sweetheart, who rested lifelessly against me to increase the pressure, so that at every leeward30 stoop of the craft my breast was caught by the edge of the table with a sensation as of a knife cutting through my shirt.
He instantly whipped off his streaming waterproofs31, standing32 without the least inconvenience whilst the decks slanted33 under him like a see-saw, and in a very few moments he had safely placed Grace on the lee locker34 with her head on a pillow. I made shift to get round to her without hurting myself, then cried to Caudel to sit and tell me what had happened.
"Well, it's just this, sir," he answered, "the mast has carried away some feet below the head of it. It went on a sudden in the squall in which the wind burst down upon us. Perhaps it was as well it happened, for she lay down to that there houtfly in a way so hobstinate that I did believe she'd never lift herself out of the water agin. But the sail came down when the mast broke, and I managed to get her afore it, though I don't mind owning to you now, sir, that what with the gear fouling35 the helm, and what with other matters which there ain't no call for me to talk about, 'twas as close a shave with us, sir, as ever happened at sea."
Grace moaned, opened her eyes and then shut them again, and moved her hand that I should take it. The companion cover lay a little way open, but though tons of water might be flying over the bow for aught I knew, not a drop glittered in the hatch. I could now, however, very clearly hear the roaring hum of the gale36, and catch the note of boiling waters; but these sounds were not so distracting but that Caudel and I clearly heard each other's voice.
"Is the yacht tight, do you think, Caudel?" cried I.
"I hope she is, sir."
"Hope! My God, but you must know, Caudel."
"Well, sir, she's adraining a little water into her—I'm bound to say it—but nothen that the pump won't keep under; and I believe that most of it finds its way into the well from up above."
I stared at him with a passion of anxiety and dismay, but his cheery blue eyes steadfastly37 returned my gaze as though he would make me know that he spoke38 the truth—that matters were not worse than he represented them.
"Has the pump been worked?" I inquired.
He lifted his hand as I asked the question, and I heard the beat of the pump throbbing39 through the dull roar of the wind as though a man had seized the brake of it in response to my inquiry40.
"This is a frightful41 situation to be in," said I, with a glance at Grace, who lay motionless, with her eyes shut, rendered almost insensible by the giddy and violent motion of the hull42.
"It'll all come right, sir," he exclaimed; "daybreak 'll be here soon—" he looked up at the clock, "then we shall be able to see what to do."
"But what is to be done?"
"Plenty, sir. Tarn43 to first of all and secure the remains44 of the mast. There's height enough left. We must secure him, I says, then wait for this here breeze to blow himself out, and then make sail and get away home as fast as ever we can."
"But is the vessel, wrecked45 aloft as she is, going to outlive such weather as this?" I cried, talking in a half-dazed way out of the sort of swooning feeling which came and went in my head like a pulse with the wild, sky-high flights and the headlong falls of the little vessel.
"I hope she will, I'm sure, sir. She was built for the seas of the Dogger, and ought to be able to stand the likes of this."
"Does much water come aboard?"
"Now and agin there's a splash, but she's doing werry well, sir. Ye see we ain't a canoe, nor a wherry. A hundred years ago the Spitfire would have been reckoned a craft big enough to sail to Australia in."
"Was anyone hurt by the sea as you rounded to?"
"Bobby was washed aft, sir, but he's all right agin."
I plied46 him with further questions, mainly concerning the prospects47 of the weather, our chances, the drift of the yacht, that I might know into what part of the Channel we were being blown, and how long it would occupy to storm us at this rate into the open Atlantic; and then asking him to watch by Grace for a few minutes, I dropped on my knees, and crawled to my cabin, where I somehow contrived48 to scramble49 into my boots, coat and cap. I then made for the companion steps, still on my knees, and clawed my way up the hatch till I was head and shoulders above it, and there I stood looking.
I say looking, but there was nothing to see save the near, vast, cloud-like spaces of foam, hovering50 as it seemed high above the rail as some black head of surge broke off the bow, or descending52 the pouring side of a sea like bodies of mist sweeping53 with incredible velocity54 with the breath of the gale. Past these dim masses the water lay in blackness—a huge spread of throbbing obscurity. All overhead was mere55 rushing darkness. The wind was wet with spray, and forward there would show at intervals56 a dull shining of foam, flashing transversely across the labouring little craft.
It was blowing hard indeed, yet from the weight of the seas and the motions of the Spitfire, I could have supposed the gale severer than it was. I returned to the cabin, and Caudel, after putting on his oilskins and swallowing a glass of brandy and water—the materials of which were swaying furiously in a silver-plated swinging tray suspended over the table—went on deck, leaving the companion cover a little way open in case I desired to quit the cabin.
Until the dawn, and some time past it, I sat close beside Grace, holding her hand or bathing her brow. She never spoke, she seldom opened her eyes; indeed, she lay as though utterly57 prostrated58, without power to articulate, or, perhaps, to think either. It was the effect of fear, however, rather than of nausea59. At any rate, I remember hoping so, for I had heard of people dying of sea sickness, and if the weather that had stormed down upon us should last, it might end in killing60 her; whereas, the daylight, and, perhaps, some little break of blue sky would reanimate her if her sufferings were owing to terror only, and when she found the little craft buoyant and our lives in no danger, her spirits would rise and her strength return.
But what an elopement is this! thought I, as I gazed upon her sweet, white face and closed lids darkening the cheek with the shadowing of the fringes. One reads of fugitive61 lovers in peril62 from overset stage coaches, from detectives in waiting at railway stations, from explosions, earthquakes and collisions on land and ocean. But a gale of wind—a storm-dismantled dandy yacht of twenty-six tons furiously working in the thick of a wild Channel sea, where the surge swells63 large with the weight of the near Atlantic—here are conditions of a runaway64 match, the like of which are not to be found, I believe, outside of my own experience.
The blessed daylight came at last. I spied the weak wet grey of it in a corner of the skylight that had been left uncovered by the tarpaulin65 which was spread over the glass. I looked closely at Grace and found her asleep. I could not be sure at first, so motionless had she been lying, but when I put my ear close to her mouth, the regularity66 of her respiration67 convinced me that she was slumbering68.
That she should be able to snatch even ten minutes of sleep cheered me. Yet my spirits were very heavy, every bone in me ached with a pain as of rheumatism69; though I did not feel sick, my brain seemed to reel, and the sensation of giddiness was hardly less miserable70 and depressing than nausea itself. I stood up, and with great difficulty caught the brandy as it flew from side to side on the swinging tray, and took a dram, and then clawed my way as before to the companion steps, and opening the cover, got into the hatch and stood looking at the picture of my yacht and the sea.
There was no one at the helm; the tiller was lashed71 to leeward. The shock I received on observing no one aft, finding the helm abandoned, as it seemed to me, I shall never forget. The tiller was the first object I saw as I rose through the hatch, and my instant belief was that all my people had been swept overboard. On looking forward, however, I spied Caudel and the others of the men at work about the mast. I am no sailor and cannot tell you what they were doing, beyond saying that they were securing the mast by affixing72 tackles and so forth73 to it. But I had no eyes for them or their work; I could only gaze at my ruined yacht, which at every heave appeared to be pulling herself together, as it were, for the final plunge74. A mass of cordage littered the deck; the head of the mast showed in splinters, whilst the spar itself looked withered75, naked, blasted, as though struck by lightning. The decks were full of water, which was flashed above the rail, where it was instantly swept away by the gale in a smoke of crystals. The black gear wriggled76 and rose to the wash of the water over the planks like a huddle77 of eels78. A large space of the bulwarks79 on the port side abreast80 of the mast was smashed level with the deck. The grey sky seemed to hover51 within musket81 shot of us, and it went down the sea in a slate-coloured weeping body of thickness to within a couple of hundred fathoms82, and the dark green surges, as they came rolling in foam from out of the windward wall of blankness, looked enormous.
In sober truth a very great sea was running indeed; the oldest sailor then afloat must have thought so. The Channel was widening into the ocean, with depth enough for seas of oceanic volume, and it was still, as it had been for some hours, blowing a whole gale of wind. I had often read of what is called a storm at sea, but had never encountered one, and now I was viewing the real thing from the deck of a little vessel that was practically dismasted in the heart of a thickness that shrouded83 us from all observation, whilst every minute we were being settled farther and farther away from the English coast towards the great Atlantic by the hurling84 scend of the surges, and by the driving fury of the blast.
Caudel on seeing me came scrambling85 to the companion. The salt of the flying wet had dried in the hollows of his eyes and lay in a sort of white powder there, insomuch that he was scarcely recognisable. It was impossible to hear him amidst that roaring commotion86, and I descended the ladder by a step or two to enable him to put his head into the hatch. He tried to look cheerful, but there was a curl in the set of his mouth that neutralised the efforts of his eye.
"Ye see how it is, Mr. Barclay?"
"Nothing could be worse."
"Dorn't say that, sir, dorn't say that. The yacht lives, and is making brave weather o't."
"She cannot go on living."
"What are you doing?"
He entered into a nautical88 explanation, the terms of which I forget. It was of the first consequence, however, that the mast should be preserved, and this the men were attempting at the risk of their lives. As the mast stood there was nothing to support it, and if it went (he explained) the Spitfire would become a sheer hulk and then our situation would be desperate indeed; but if the men succeeded in preserving the mast, they could easily make sail upon the yacht when the weather moderated, "and the land ain't very fur off yet, sir," he added.
"But we are widening our distance rapidly."
He shook his head somewhat dolefully, saying, "Yes, that was so."
"I am thinking of the hull, Caudel. Surely this wild tossing must be straining the vessel frightfully. Does she continue to take in water?"
"I must not deceive you, sir," he answered; "she do. But a short spell at the pump sarves to chuck it all out again, and so there's no call for your honour to be oneasy."
He returned to the others, whilst I, heart-sickened by the intelligence that the Spitfire had sprung a leak—for that, I felt, must be the plain English of Caudel's assurance—continued standing a few moments longer in the hatch looking round. Ugly rings of vapour, patches and fragments of dirty yellow scud89 flew past, loose and low under the near grey wet stoop of the sky; they made the only break in that firmament90 of storm. The smother91 of the weather was thickened yet by the clouds of driving spray which rose like bursts of steam from the sides and heads of the seas, making one think of the fierce gusts92 and guns of the gale as of wolves tearing mouthfuls with sharp teeth from the flanks and backs of the rushing and roaring chase they pursued.
How the seamen93 maintained their footing I could not imagine. In order to climb the naked spar they had driven short nails at wide intervals up it; and one of them—Foster—as I watched, crawled up the mast with a big block on his back.
It seemed to me as though the men were working for life or death. The yacht rode buoyant to her lashed helm under a fragment of mizzen if I remember right, and very little water came aboard, though great fountains of spray would occasionally soar off the bow, and blow in a snowstorm fathoms away into the sea on the opposite side. But the motions of that naked height of splintered mast were like a batôn in the hands of an excited orchestra conductor, and though I believe I was not more wanting in nerves in my time than most others, my eyes reeled in my head at sight of the plucky94 fellow, doggedly95 rising nail by nail, till he had reached the point of elevation96 where the block was to be secured.
My anxieties, however, were below, on the locker where I had left my sweetheart sleeping, and I was about to descend27, when my sight was taken by a shadow in the grey thickness to windward. It was a mere oozing97 of darkness, so to speak for a moment or two; then as though to the touch of the wand of an enchanter, it leapt upon the eye in the full and majestic98 proportions of a great, black-hulled ship, "flying light," as the term is. She came rushing down upon us under two lower topsails, and a reefed foresail, pitching to her hawse-pipes as she came, then lifting a broad surface of greenish sheathing99 out of the acre of yeast100 that the blow of her cutwater had set boiling. She rushed by close astern of us, and the thunder of the gale in her rigging and the hissing101 sounds of the seas as she burst into them rose high above the universal humming and seething102 of the storm. Two figures alone were visible; one in a sea helmet and oilskins at the wheel; a second in a long coat and fur cap, holding by a backstay. She vanished with the velocity with which she had emerged; but I could not have conjectured103 her nearness till I reflected how plainly I had seen the two men—all features of their clothing—their very faces, indeed!
Shall we be run down, sent helplessly to the bottom before this weather has done its work for us? thought I, and shuddering105 to the fancy of a blow from such a stem as that which had just swept past us, I descended the cabin steps. Grace was awake, sitting upright, but in a listless, lolling, helpless posture106. I was thankful, however, to find her capable of the exertion107 even of sitting erect108. I crept to her side, and held her to me to cherish and comfort her.
"Oh, this weary, weary motion!" she cried, pressing her hand upon her temples.
"It cannot last much longer, my darling," I said; "the gale is fast blowing itself out, and then we shall have blue skies and smooth water again."
"Can we not land, Herbert?" she asked feebly in my ear, with her cheek upon my shoulder.
"Would to Heaven that were possible within the next five minutes!" I answered.
"Whereabouts are we?"
"I cannot tell exactly; but when this weather breaks we shall find the English coast within easy reach."
"Oh, do not let us wait until we get to Mount's Bay!" she cried.
"My pet, the nearest port will be our port now, depend upon it."
This sort of talk making me feel most wretchedly and miserably109 hopeless, I got away from the subject by asking her how she felt, and by reassuring110 her as to the buoyancy of the yacht, and I then coaxed111 her into taking a little weak brandy and water, which, as a tonic112 under the circumstances, was the best medicine I could have given her. I afterwards made her lie down again, and procured113 Eau de Cologne and another pillow, and such matters, but at a heavy cost to my bones; for had I been imprisoned in a cask, and sent in that posture on a tour down a mountain's side, I could not have been more abominably114 thumped115 and belaboured. It was one wild scramble and flounder from beginning to end, blows on the head, blows on the shins, complete capsisals that left me sitting and dazed; and when my business of attending upon her was at an end, I felt that this little passage of my elopement had qualified116 me for nothing so much as for a hospital.
The day passed; a day of ceaseless storm, and of such tossing as only a smacksman, who has fished in the North Sea in winter, could know anything about. The spells at the pump grew frequent as the hours progressed, and the wearisome beat of the plied break affected118 my imagination as though it were the tolling119 of our funeral bell. I hardly required Caudel to tell me the condition of the yacht when, sometime between eight and nine o'clock that night, he put his head into the hatch and motioned me to ascend120.
"It's my duty to tell ye, Mr. Barclay," he exclaimed, whispering hoarsely121 into my ear, in the comparative shelter of the companion cover, that Grace might not overhear him, "that the leak's againing upon us."
I had guessed as much; yet this confirmation122 of my conjecture104 affected me as violently as though I had had no previous suspicion of the state of the yacht. I was thunderstruck, I felt the blood forsake123 my cheeks, and for some moments I could not find my voice.
"You do not mean to tell me, Caudel, that the yacht is actually sinking?"
"No, sir. But the pump'll have to be kept continually going if she's to remain afloat. I'm afeer'd when the mast went over the side that a blow from it started a butt124, and the leak's growing worse and worse, consequence of the working of the craft."
"Is it still thick?"
"As mud, sir."
"Why not fire the gun at intervals?" said I, referring to the little brass125 cannon126 that stood mounted upon the quarter-deck.
"I'm afeered—" he paused with a melancholy127 shake of his head. "Of course, Mr. Barclay," he went on, "if it's your wish, sir—but it'll do no more, I allow, than frighten the young lady. 'Tis but a peashooter, sir, and the gale's like thunder."
"We are in your hands, Caudel," said I, with a feeling of despair ice-cold at my heart, as I reflected upon the size of our little craft, her crippled and sinking condition, our distance from land—as I felt the terrible might and powers of the seas which were tossing us—and as I thought of my sweetheart!
"Mr. Barclay," he answered, "if the weather do but moderate, I shall have no fear. Our case ain't hopeless yet by a long way, sir. The water's to be kept under by continuous pumping, and there are hands enough and to spare for that job. We're not in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, but in the mouth of the English Channel, with plenty of shipping128 knocking about. But the weather's got to moderate. Firing that there gun 'ud only terrify the young lady, and do no good. If a ship came along no boat could live in this sea. In this here blackness she couldn't kept us company, and our rockets wouldn't be visible half a mile off. No, sir, we've got to stick to the pump, and pray for daylight and fine weather," and, having no more to say to me, or a sudden emotion checking his utterance129, he pulled his head out and disappeared in the obscurity.
Grace asked me what Caudel had been talking about, and I answered with the utmost composure I could master that he had come to tell me the yacht was making a noble fight of it and that there was nothing to cause us alarm. I had not the heart to respond otherwise, nor could the bare truth, as I understood it, have served any other end than to deprive her of her senses. Even now, I seemed to find an expression of wildness in her beautiful eyes, as though the tension of her nerves, along with the weary endless hours of delirious130 pitching and tossing, was beginning to tell upon her brain. I sought to comfort her, I caressed131 her, I strained her to my heart, whilst I exerted my whole soul to look cheerfully and to speak cheerfully, and, thank God! the influence of my true, deep love prevailed; she spoke tranquilly132; the brilliant staring look of her eyes was softened133; occasionally she would smile as she lay in my arms, whilst I rattled134 on, struggling, with a resolution that now seems preternatural when I look back, to distract her attention from our situation.
At one o'clock in the morning she fell asleep, and I knelt by her sleeping form, and prayed for mercy and protection.
It was much about this hour that Caudel's face again showed in the hatch. I crawled along the deck and up the steps to him, and he immediately said to me in a voice that trembled with agitation135:
I clasped my hands, and could have hugged the dripping figure of the man to my breast.
"Yes, sir," he continued, "the breeze is slackening. There's no mistake about it. The horizon's opening too."
"Heaven be praised. And what of the leak, Caudel?"
"If the weather should moderate—"
"Well then, if the leak don't gain, we may manage to carry her home. That'll have to be found out, sir. But seeing the yacht's condition, I shall be for trans-shipping you and the lady to anything inwards bound, that may come along. Us men'll take the yacht to port, providing she'll let us." He paused, and then said: "There might be no harm now, perhaps, in firing off that there gun. If a smack117 'ud show herself, she'd be willing to stand by for the sake of the salvage138. We'll also send up a few rockets, sir. But how about the young lady, Mr. Barclay?"
"Everything must be done," I replied, "that is likely to preserve our lives."
There was some gunpowder139 aboard, but where Caudel had stowed it I did not know. However, five minutes after he had left me, and whilst I was sitting by the side of my sweetheart, who still slept, the gun was discharged. It sent a small shock through the little fabric140, as though she had gently touched ground, or run into some floating object, but the report, blending with the commotion of the seas and bell-like ringing, and wolfish howlings of the wind, penetrated141 the deck in a note so dull that Grace never stirred. Ten or twelve times was this little cannon discharged at intervals of five and ten minutes, and I could hear the occasional rush of a rocket, like a giant hissing in wrath142, sounding through the stormy uproar143.
Tragical144 noises to harken to, believe me! communicating a significance dark as death, to the now ceaseless pulsing of the pump, to the blows of the sea against the yacht's bow, and to every giddy rise and fall of the labouring little structure amid the hills and valleys of that savage145 Channel sea.
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abeam
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| adj.正横着(的) | |
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volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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cascading
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| 流注( cascade的现在分词 )； 大量落下； 大量垂悬； 梯流 | |
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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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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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subduing
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| 征服( subdue的现在分词 )； 克制； 制服； 色变暗 | |
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apprenticeship
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| n.学徒身份；学徒期 | |
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capering
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的现在分词 )；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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expiration
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| n.终结，期满，呼气，呼出物 | |
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25
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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26
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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27
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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28
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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29
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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30
leeward
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| adj.背风的；下风的 | |
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31
waterproofs
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| n.防水衣物，雨衣 usually plural( waterproof的名词复数 )v.使防水，使不透水( waterproof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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32
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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33
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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34
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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35
fouling
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| n.（水管、枪筒等中的）污垢v.使污秽( foul的现在分词 )；弄脏；击球出界；（通常用废物）弄脏 | |
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36
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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37
steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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38
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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39
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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40
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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41
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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42
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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43
tarn
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| n.山中的小湖或小潭 | |
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44
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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45
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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46
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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47
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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48
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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49
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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50
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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51
hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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52
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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53
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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54
velocity
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| n.速度，速率 | |
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55
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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56
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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57
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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58
prostrated
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| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
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59
nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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60
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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61
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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62
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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63
swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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64
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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65
tarpaulin
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| n.涂油防水布，防水衣，防水帽 | |
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66
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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67
respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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68
slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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69
rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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70
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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71
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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72
affixing
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| v.附加( affix的现在分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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73
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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74
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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75
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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76
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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77
huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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78
eels
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| abbr. 电子发射器定位系统（=electronic emitter location system） | |
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79
bulwarks
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| n.堡垒( bulwark的名词复数 )；保障；支柱；舷墙 | |
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80
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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81
musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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82
fathoms
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| 英寻( fathom的名词复数 ) | |
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83
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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84
hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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85
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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86
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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87
outlast
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| v.较…耐久 | |
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88
nautical
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| adj.海上的，航海的，船员的 | |
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89
scud
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| n.疾行；v.疾行 | |
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90
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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91
smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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92
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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93
seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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94
plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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95
doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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96
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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97
oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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98
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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99
sheathing
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| n.覆盖物，罩子v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的现在分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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100
yeast
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| n.酵母；酵母片；泡沫；v.发酵；起泡沫 | |
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101
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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102
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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103
conjectured
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| 推测，猜测，猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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105
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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106
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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107
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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108
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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109
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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110
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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111
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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112
tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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113
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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114
abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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115
thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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117
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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118
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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119
tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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120
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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121
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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122
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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123
forsake
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| vt.遗弃，抛弃；舍弃，放弃 | |
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124
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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125
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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126
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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127
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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128
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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129
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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130
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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131
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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132
tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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133
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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134
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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135
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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136
noose
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| n.绳套，绞索（刑）；v.用套索捉；使落入圈套；处以绞刑 | |
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137
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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138
salvage
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| v.救助，营救，援救；n.救助，营救 | |
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139
gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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140
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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141
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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142
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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143
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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144
tragical
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| adj. 悲剧的, 悲剧性的 | |
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145
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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