His rage and indignation a few days later may be readily conceived, when he found, on returning to his new-made home, another square of paper, folded like the first, but much fresher and whiter, lying within the cavity, on top of some moss16 which had evidently been placed there for the purpose. This he felt was really more than he could bear, but it was smaller, and with a few energetic kicks and whisks of his tail he managed to finally dislodge it through the opening, where it fell ignominiously17 to the earth. The eager eyes of the ever-attendant crow, however, instantly detected it; he flew to the ground, and, turning it over, examined it gravely. It was certainly not edible19, but it was exceedingly rare, and, as an old collector of curios, he felt he could not pass it by. He lifted it in his beak20, and, with a desperate struggle against the superincumbent weight, regained21 the branch with his prize. Here, by one of those delicious vagaries22 of animal nature, he apparently at once discharged his mind of the whole affair, became utterly23 oblivious24 of it, allowed it to drop without the least concern, and eventually flew away with an abstracted air, as if he had been another bird entirely25. The paper got into a manzanita bush, where it remained suspended until the evening, when, being dislodged by a passing wild-cat on its way to Mulrady's hen-roost, it gave that delicately sensitive marauder such a turn that she fled into the adjacent county.
But the troubles of the squirrel were not yet over. On the following day the young man who had accompanied the young woman returned to the trunk, and the squirrel had barely time to make his escape before the impatient visitor approached the opening of the cavity, peered into it, and even passed his hand through its recesses26. The delight visible upon his anxious and serious face at the disappearance27 of the letter, and the apparent proof that it had been called for, showed him to have been its original depositor, and probably awakened28 a remorseful29 recollection in the dark bosom30 of the omnipresent crow, who uttered a conscious-stricken croak31 from the bough32 above him. But the young man quickly disappeared again, and the squirrel was once more left in undisputed possession.
A week passed. A weary, anxious interval33 to Don Caesar, who had neither seen nor heard from Mamie since their last meeting. Too conscious of his own self-respect to call at the house after the equivocal conduct of Mrs. Mulrady, and too proud to haunt the lanes and approaches in the hope of meeting her daughter, like an ordinary lover, he hid his gloomy thoughts in the monastic shadows of the courtyard at Los Gatos, or found relief in furious riding at night and early morning on the highway. Once or twice the up-stage had been overtaken and passed by a rushing figure as shadowy as a phantom34 horseman, with only the star-like point of a cigarette to indicate its humanity. It was in one of these fierce recreations that he was obliged to stop in early morning at the blacksmith's shop at Rough-and-Ready, to have a loosened horseshoe replaced, and while waiting picked up a newspaper. Don Caesar seldom read the papers, but noticing that this was the "Record," he glanced at its columns. A familiar name suddenly flashed out of the dark type like a spark from the anvil36. With a brain and heart that seemed to be beating in unison37 with the blacksmith's sledge38, he read as follows:—
"Our distinguished39 fellow-townsman, Alvin Mulrady, Esq., left town day before yesterday to attend an important meeting of directors of the Red Dog Ditch Company, in San Francisco. Society will regret to hear that Mrs. Mulrady and her beautiful and accomplished40 daughter, who are expecting to depart for Europe at the end of the month, anticipated the event nearly a fortnight, by taking this opportunity of accompanying Mr. Mulrady as far as San Francisco, on their way to the East. Mrs. and Miss Mulrady intend to visit London, Paris, and Berlin, and will be absent three years. It is possible that Mr. Mulrady may join them later at one or other of those capitals. Considerable disappointment is felt that a more extended leave-taking was not possible, and that, under the circumstances, no opportunity was offered for a 'send off' suitable to the condition of the parties and the esteem41 in which they are held in Rough-and-Ready."
The paper dropped from his hands. Gone! and without a word! No, that was impossible! There must be some mistake; she had written; the letter had miscarried; she must have sent word to Los Gatos, and the stupid messenger had blundered; she had probably appointed another meeting, or expected him to follow to San Francisco. "The day before yesterday!" It was the morning's paper—she had been gone scarcely two days—it was not too late yet to receive a delayed message by post, by some forgetful hand—by—ah—the tree!
Of course it was in the tree, and he had not been there for a week! Why had he not thought of it before? The fault was his, not hers. Perhaps she had gone away, believing him faithless, or a country boor43.
"In the name of the Devil, will you keep me here till eternity44!"
The blacksmith stared at him. Don Caesar suddenly remembered that he was speaking, as he was thinking—in Spanish.
"Ten dollars, my friend, if you have done in five minutes!"
The man laughed. "That's good enough American," he said, beginning to quicken his efforts. Don Caesar again took up the paper. There was another paragraph that recalled his last interview with Mamie:—
"Mr. Harry45 Slinn, Jr., the editor of this paper, has just moved into the pioneer house formerly46 occupied by Alvin Mulrady, Esq., which has already become historic in the annals of the county. Mr. Slinn brings with him his father—H. J. Slinn, Esq.,—and his two sisters. Mr. Slinn, Sen., who has been suffering for many years from complete paralysis47, we understand is slowly improving; and it is by the advice of his physicians that he has chosen the invigorating air of the foothills as a change to the debilitating48 heat of Sacramento."
The affair had been quickly settled, certainly, reflected Don Caesar, with a slight chill of jealousy49, as he thought of Mamie's interest in the young editor. But the next moment he dismissed it from his mind; all except a dull consciousness that, if she really loved him—Don Caesar—as he loved her, she could not have assisted in throwing into his society the young sisters of the editor, who she expected might be so attractive.
Within the five minutes the horse was ready, and Don Caesar in the saddle again. In less than half an hour he was at the wayside boulder50. Here he picketed51 his horse, and took the narrow foot-trail through the hollow. It did not take him long to reach their old trysting-place. With a beating heart he approached the decaying trunk and looked into the cavity. There was no letter there!
A few blackened nuts and some of the dry moss he had put there were lying on the ground at its roots. He could not remember whether they were there when he had last visited the spot. He began to grope in the cavity with both hands. His fingers struck against the sharp angles of a flat paper packet: a thrill of joy ran through them and stopped his beating heart; he drew out the hidden object, and was chilled with disappointment.
It was an ordinary-sized envelope of yellowish-brown paper, bearing, besides the usual government stamp, the official legend of an express company, and showing its age as much by this record of a now obsolete52 carrying service as by the discoloration of time and atmosphere. Its weight, which was heavier than that of any ordinary letter of the same size and thickness, was evidently due to some loose enclosures, that slightly rustled53 and could be felt by the fingers, like minute pieces of metal or grains of gravel18. It was within Don Caesar's experience that gold specimens54 were often sent in that manner. It was in a state of singular preservation55, except the address, which, being written in pencil, was scarcely discernible, and even when deciphered appeared to be incoherent and unfinished. The unknown correspondent had written "dear Mary," and then "Mrs. Mary Slinn," with an unintelligible56 scrawl57 following for the direction. If Don Caesar's mind had not been lately preoccupied58 with the name of the editor, he would hardly have guessed the superscription.
In his cruel disappointment and fully59 aroused indignation, he at once began to suspect a connection of circumstances which at any other moment he would have thought purely60 accidental, or perhaps not have considered at all. The cavity in the tree had evidently been used as a secret receptacle for letters before; did Mamie know it at the time, and how did she know it? The apparent age of the letter made it preposterous61 to suppose that it pointed42 to any secret correspondence of hers with young Mr. Slinn; and the address was not in her handwriting. Was there any secret previous intimacy62 between the families? There was but one way in which he could connect this letter with Mamie's faithlessness. It was an infamous63, a grotesquely64 horrible idea, a thought which sprang as much from his inexperience of the world and his habitual65 suspiciousness of all humor as anything else! It was that the letter was a brutal66 joke of Slinn's—a joke perhaps concocted67 by Mamie and himself—a parting insult that should at the last moment proclaim their treachery and his own credulity. Doubtless it contained a declaration of their shame, and the reason why she had fled from him without a word of explanation. And the enclosure, of course, was some significant and degrading illustration. Those Americans are full of those low conceits68; it was their national vulgarity.
He had the letter in his angry hand. He could break it open if he wished and satisfy himself; but it was not addressed to HIM, and the instinct of honor, strong even in his rage, was the instinct of an adversary69 as well. No; Slinn should open the letter before him. Slinn should explain everything, and answer for it. If it was nothing—a mere70 accident—it would lead to some general explanation, and perhaps even news of Mamie. But he would arraign71 Slinn, and at once. He put the letter in his pocket, quickly retraced72 his steps to his horse, and, putting spurs to the animal, followed the high road to the gate of Mulrady's pioneer cabin.
He remembered it well enough. To a cultivated taste, it was superior to the more pretentious73 "new house." During the first year of Mulrady's tenancy, the plain square log-cabin had received those additions and attractions which only a tenant74 can conceive and actual experience suggest; and in this way the hideous75 right angles were broken with sheds, "lean-to" extensions, until a certain picturesqueness76 was given to the irregularity of outline, and a home-like security and companionship to the congregated77 buildings. It typified the former life of the great capitalist, as the tall new house illustrated78 the loneliness and isolation79 that wealth had given him. But the real points of vantage were the years of cultivation80 and habitation that had warmed and enriched the soil, and evoked81 the climbing vines and roses that already hid its unpainted boards, rounded its hard outlines, and gave projection82 and shadow from the pitiless glare of a summer's long sun, or broke the steady beating of the winter rains. It was true that pea and bean poles surrounded it on one side, and the only access to the house was through the cabbage rows that once were the pride and sustenance83 of the Mulradys. It was this fact, more than any other, that had impelled84 Mrs. Mulrady to abandon its site; she did not like to read the history of their humble85 origin reflected in the faces of their visitors as they entered.
Don Caesar tied his horse to the fence, and hurriedly approached the house. The door, however, hospitably86 opened when he was a few paces from it, and when he reached the threshold he found himself unexpectedly in the presence of two pretty girls. They were evidently Slinn's sisters, whom he had neither thought of nor included in the meeting he had prepared. In spite of his preoccupation, he felt himself suddenly embarrassed, not only by the actual distinction of their beauty, but by a kind of likeness87 that they seemed to bear to Mamie.
"We saw you coming," said the elder, unaffectedly. "You are Don Caesar Alvarado. My brother has spoken of you."
The words recalled Don Caesar to himself and a sense of courtesy. He was not here to quarrel with these fair strangers at their first meeting; he must seek Slinn elsewhere, and at another time. The frankness of his reception and the allusion90 to their brother made it appear impossible that they should be either a party to his disappointment, or even aware of it. His excitement melted away before a certain lazy ease, which the consciousness of their beauty seemed to give them. He was able to put a few courteous91 inquiries92, and, thanks to the paragraph in the "Record," to congratulate them upon their father's improvement.
"Oh, pa is a great deal better in his health, and has picked up even in the last few days, so that he is able to walk round with crutches," said the elder sister. "The air here seems to invigorate him wonderfully."
"And you know, Esther," said the younger, "I think he begins to take more notice of things, especially when he is out-of-doors. He looks around on the scenery, and his eye brightens, as if he knew all about it; and sometimes he knits his brows, and looks down so, as if he was trying to remember."
"You know, I suppose," exclaimed Esther, "that since his seizure93 his memory has been a blank—that is, three or four years of his life seem to have been dropped out of his recollection."
"It might be a mercy sometimes, Senora," said Don Caesar, with a grave sigh, as he looked at the delicate features before him, which recalled the face of the absent Mamie.
"That's not very complimentary," said the younger girl, laughingly; "for pa didn't recognize us, and only remembered us as little girls."
"Vashti!" interrupted Esther, rebukingly94; then, turning to Don Caesar, she added, "My sister, Vashti, means that father remembers more what happened before he came to California, when we were quite young, than he does of the interval that elapsed. Dr. Duchesne says it's a singular case. He thinks that, with his present progress, he will recover the perfect use of his limbs; though his memory may never come back again."
"Unless— You forget what the doctor told us this morning," interrupted Vashti again, briskly.
"I was going to say it," said Esther, a little curtly95. "UNLESS he has another stroke. Then he will either die or recover his mind entirely."
Don Caesar glanced at the bright faces, a trifle heightened in color by their eager recital96 and the slight rivalry97 of narration98, and looked grave. He was a little shocked at a certain lack of sympathy and tenderness towards their unhappy parent. They seemed to him not only to have caught that dry, curious toleration of helplessness which characterizes even relationship in its attendance upon chronic99 suffering and weakness, but to have acquired an unconscious habit of turning it to account. In his present sensitive condition, he even fancied that they flirted100 mildly over their parent's infirmity.
"My brother Harry has gone to Red Dog," continued Esther; "he'll be right sorry to have missed you. Mrs. Mulrady spoke89 to him about you; you seem to have been great friends. I s'pose you knew her daughter, Mamie; I hear she is very pretty."
Although Don Caesar was now satisfied that the Slinns knew nothing of Mamie's singular behavior to him, he felt embarrassed by this conversation. "Miss Mulrady is very pretty," he said, with grave courtesy; "it is a custom of her race. She left suddenly," he added with affected88 calmness.
"I reckon she did calculate to stay here longer—so her mother said; but the whole thing was settled a week ago. I know my brother was quite surprised to hear from Mr. Mulrady that if we were going to decide about this house we must do it at once; he had an idea himself about moving out of the big one into this when they left."
"Mamie Mulrady hadn't much to keep her here, considerin' the money and the good looks she has, I reckon," said Vashti. "She isn't the sort of girl to throw herself away in the wilderness101, when she can pick and choose elsewhere. I only wonder she ever come back from Sacramento. They talk about papa Mulrady having BUSINESS at San Francisco, and THAT hurrying them off! Depend upon it, that 'business' was Mamie herself. Her wish is gospel to them. If she'd wanted to stay and have a farewell party, old Mulrady's business would have been nowhere."
"Ain't you a little rough on Mamie," said Esther, who had been quietly watching the young man's face with her large languid eyes, "considering that we don't know her, and haven't even the right of friends to criticise102?"
"I don't call it rough," returned Vashti, frankly103, "for I'd do the same if I were in her shoes—and they're four-and-a-halves, for Harry told me so. Give me her money and her looks, and you wouldn't catch me hanging round these diggings—goin' to choir104 meetings Saturdays, church Sundays, and buggy-riding once a month—for society! No—Mamie's head was level—you bet!"
Don Caesar rose hurriedly. They would present his compliments to their father, and he would endeavor to find their brother at Red Dog. He, alas105! had neither father, mother, nor sister, but if they would receive his aunt, the Dona Inez Sepulvida, the next Sunday, when she came from mass, she should be honored and he would be delighted. It required all his self-possession to deliver himself of this formal courtesy before he could take his leave, and on the back of his mustang give way to the rage, disgust and hatred106 of everything connected with Mamie that filled his heart. Conscious of his disturbance107, but not entirely appreciating their own share in it, the two girls somewhat wickedly prolonged the interview by following him into the garden.
"Well, if you MUST leave now," said Esther, at last, languidly, "it ain't much out of your way to go down through the garden and take a look at pa as you go. He's somewhere down there, near the woods, and we don't like to leave him alone too long. You might pass the time of day with him; see if he's right side up. Vashti and I have got a heap of things to fix here yet; but if anything's wrong with him, you can call us. So-long."
Don Caesar was about to excuse himself hurriedly; but that sudden and acute perception of all kindred sorrow which belongs to refined suffering, checked his speech. The loneliness of the helpless old man in this atmosphere of active and youthful selfishness touched him. He bowed assent108, and turned aside into one of the long perspectives of bean-poles. The girls watched him until out of sight.
"Well," said Vashti, "don't tell ME. But if there wasn't something between him and that Mamie Mulrady, I don't know a jilted man when I see him."
"Well, you needn't have let him SEE that you knew it, so that any civility of ours would look as if we were ready to take up with her leavings," responded Esther, astutely109, as the girls reentered the house.
Meantime, the unconscious object of their criticism walked sadly down the old market-garden, whose rude outlines and homely110 details he once clothed with the poetry of a sensitive man's first love. Well, it was a common cabbage field and potato patch after all. In his disgust he felt conscious of even the loss of that sense of patronage111 and superiority which had invested his affection for a girl of meaner condition. His self-respect was humiliated112 with his love. The soil and dirt of those wretched cabbages had clung to him, but not to her. It was she who had gone higher; it was he who was left in the vulgar ruins of his misplaced passion.
He reached the bottom of the garden without observing any sign of the lonely invalid113. He looked up and down the cabbage rows, and through the long perspective of pea-vines, without result. There was a newer trail leading from a gap in the pines to the wooded hollow, which undoubtedly114 intersected the little path that he and Mamie had once followed from the high road. If the old man had taken this trail he had possibly over-tasked his strength, and there was the more reason why he should continue his search, and render any assistance if required. There was another idea that occurred to him, which eventually decided115 him to go on. It was that both these trails led to the decayed sycamore stump116, and that the older Slinn might have something to do with the mysterious letter. Quickening his steps through the field, he entered the hollow, and reached the intersecting trail as he expected. To the right it lost itself in the dense117 woods in the direction of the ominous118 stump; to the left it descended119 in nearly a straight line to the highway, now plainly visible, as was equally the boulder on which he had last discovered Mamie sitting with young Slinn. If he were not mistaken, there was a figure sitting there now; it was surely a man. And by that half-bowed, helpless attitude, the object of his search!
It did not take him long to descend120 the track to the highway and approach the stranger. He was seated with his hands upon his knees, gazing in a vague, absorbed fashion upon the hillside, now crowned with the engine-house and chimney that marked the site of Mulrady's shaft121. He started slightly, and looked up, as Don Caesar paused before him. The young man was surprised to see that the unfortunate man was not as old as he had expected, and that his expression was one of quiet and beatified contentment.
"Your daughters told me you were here," said Don Caesar, with gentle respect. "I am Caesar Alvarado, your not very far neighbor; very happy to pay his respects to you as he has to them."
"My daughters?" said the old man, vaguely122. "Oh, yes! nice little girls. And my boy Harry. Did you see Harry? Fine little fellow, Harry."
"I am glad to hear that you are better," said Don Caesar, hastily, "and that the air of our country does you no harm. God benefit you, senor," he added, with a profoundly reverential gesture, dropping unconsciously into the religious habit of his youth. "May he protect you, and bring you back to health and happiness!"
"Happiness?" said Slinn, amazedly. "I am happy—very happy! I have everything I want: good air, good food, good clothes, pretty little children, kind friends—" He smiled benignantly at Don Caesar. "God is very good to me!"
Indeed, he seemed very happy; and his face, albeit123 crowned with white hair, unmarked by care and any disturbing impression, had so much of satisfied youth in it that the grave features of his questioner made him appear the elder. Nevertheless, Don Caesar noticed that his eyes, when withdrawn124 from him, sought the hillside with the same visionary abstraction.
"It is a fine view, Senor Esslinn," said Don Caesar.
"It is a beautiful view, sir," said Slinn, turning his happy eyes upon him for a moment, only to rest them again on the green slope opposite.
"Beyond that hill which you are looking at—not far, Senor Esslinn—I live. You shall come and see me there—you and your family."
"You—you—live there?" stammered126 the invalid, with a troubled expression—the first and only change to the complete happiness that had hitherto suffused127 his face. "You—and your name is—is Ma—"
"Alvarado," said Don Caesar, gently. "Caesar Alvarado."
"You said Masters," said the old man, with sudden querulousness.
"No, good friend. I said Alvarado," returned Don Caesar, gravely.
"If you didn't say Masters, how could I say it? I don't know any Masters."
Don Caesar was silent. In another moment the happy tranquillity128 returned to Slinn's face; and Don Caesar continued:—
"It is not a long walk over the hill, though it is far by the road. When you are better you shall try it. Yonder little trail leads to the top of the hill, and then—"
He stopped, for the invalid's face had again assumed its troubled expression. Partly to change his thoughts, and partly for some inexplicable129 idea that had suddenly seized him, Don Caesar continued:—
"There is a strange old stump near the trail, and in it a hole. In the hole I found this letter." He stopped again—this time in alarm. Slinn had staggered to his feet with ashen130 and distorted features, and was glancing at the letter which Don Caesar had drawn125 from his pocket. The muscles of his throat swelled131 as if he was swallowing; his lips moved, but no sound issued from them. At last, with a convulsive effort, he regained a disjointed speech, in a voice scarcely audible.
"My letter! my letter! It's mine! Give it me! It's my fortune—all mine! In the tunnel—hill! Masters stole it—stole my fortune! Stole it all! See, see!"
He seized the letter from Don Caesar with trembling hands, and tore it open forcibly: a few dull yellow grains fell from it heavily, like shot, to the ground.
"See, it's true! My letter! My gold! My strike! My—my—my God!"
A tremor132 passed over his face. The hand that held the letter suddenly dropped sheer and heavy as the gold had fallen. The whole side of his face and body nearest Don Caesar seemed to drop and sink into itself as suddenly. At the same moment, and without a word, he slipped through Don Caesar's outstretched hands to the ground. Don Caesar bent7 quickly over him, but no longer than to satisfy himself that he lived and breathed, although helpless. He then caught up the fallen letter, and, glancing over it with flashing eyes, thrust it and the few specimens in his pocket. He then sprang to his feet, so transformed with energy and intelligence that he seemed to have added the lost vitality133 of the man before him to his own. He glanced quickly up and down the highway. Every moment to him was precious now; but he could not leave the stricken man in the dust of the road; nor could he carry him to the house; nor, having alarmed his daughters, could he abandon his helplessness to their feeble arms. He remembered that his horse was still tied to the garden fence. He would fetch it, and carry the unfortunate man across the saddle to the gate. He lifted him with difficulty to the boulder, and ran rapidly up the road in the direction of his tethered steed. He had not proceeded far when he heard the noise of wheels behind him. It was the up stage coming furiously along. He would have called to the driver for assistance, but even through that fast-sweeping cloud of dust and motion he could see that the man was utterly oblivious of anything but the speed of his rushing chariot, and had even risen in his box to lash35 the infuriated and frightened animals forward.
An hour later, when the coach drew up at the Red Dog Hotel, the driver descended from the box, white, but taciturn. When he had swallowed a glass of whiskey at a single gulp134, he turned to the astonished express agent, who had followed him in.
"One of two things, Jim, hez got to happen," he said, huskily. "Either that there rock hez got to get off the road, or I have. I've seed HIM on it agin!
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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hoard
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| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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browsing
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| v.吃草( browse的现在分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
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incumbents
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| 教区牧师( incumbent的名词复数 )； 教会中的任职者 | |
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bent
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proceedings
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hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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larvae
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eviction
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nibbling
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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ravages
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| 劫掠后的残迹，破坏的结果，毁坏后的残迹 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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rodent
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moss
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ignominiously
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gravel
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edible
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| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
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beak
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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vagaries
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utterly
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oblivious
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entirely
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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30
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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31
croak
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| vi.嘎嘎叫，发牢骚 | |
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32
bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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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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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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36
anvil
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| n.铁钻 | |
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37
unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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38
sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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39
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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40
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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41
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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42
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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43
boor
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| n.举止粗野的人；乡下佬 | |
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44
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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45
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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46
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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47
paralysis
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| n.麻痹(症)；瘫痪(症) | |
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48
debilitating
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| a.使衰弱的 | |
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49
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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50
boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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51
picketed
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| 用尖桩围住（picket的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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52
obsolete
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| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
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53
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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55
preservation
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| n.保护，维护，保存，保留，保持 | |
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56
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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57
scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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59
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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60
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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61
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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62
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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grotesquely
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| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
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65
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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66
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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67
concocted
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的过去式和过去分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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68
conceits
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| 高傲( conceit的名词复数 )； 自以为； 巧妙的词语； 别出心裁的比喻 | |
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adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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70
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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71
arraign
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| v.提讯；控告 | |
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72
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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73
pretentious
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| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
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74
tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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75
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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76
picturesqueness
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77
congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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79
isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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80
cultivation
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| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
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81
evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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82
projection
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| n.发射，计划，突出部分 | |
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83
sustenance
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| n.食物，粮食；生活资料；生计 | |
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84
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
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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86
hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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87
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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88
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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89
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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90
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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91
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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92
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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93
seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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94
rebukingly
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95
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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96
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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97
rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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98
narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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99
chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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100
flirted
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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102
criticise
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| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
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103
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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104
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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105
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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106
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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107
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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108
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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109
astutely
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| adv.敏锐地；精明地；敏捷地；伶俐地 | |
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110
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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111
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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112
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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113
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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114
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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115
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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116
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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117
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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118
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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119
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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120
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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121
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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122
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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123
albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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124
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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125
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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126
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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128
tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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129
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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130
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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131
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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132
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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133
vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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134
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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