The cook smiled and rubbed his round paunch (yet cringed a little), for he was of a mind, being never slow in such matters, to filch6 from the cabin table whatever he might desire and his heart warmed to hear the good victuals7 named. "Yea, master," he cried, "for thee and for Mate Malcolm?"
"Nay8, thou parsimonious9 dog! Think you that such are the manners of gentlemen mariners10? Times have changed. Though I be master, there is no salt at my board. One man is as good as another and any man may rub his shoulder with mine."
The Old One's own men chuckled11 at the cook's blank face and the boy shivered when he thought that he must wait on them all, of whom one was as likely as another to fetch him a blow on the head. But the cook went down below and they heard him bawling12 to his mate to come and help break out the cabin stores, and word went through the ship of what was afoot. And though Will Canty and the boatswain, meeting, glanced dubiously13 each at the other, as did others of the Rose of Devon's old company,—for matters are in a sad way in a ship when the master feasts the men,—all the foolish fellows were clapping one another on the back and crying that here was a proper captain, and there was none quite so mad as to dispute them in so many words.
The smoke grew thick between the decks, and after a while there rose the smell of baking and roasting, and the foolish ones patted their bellies14 and smacked15 their lips. They whispered about that the boy was spreading with a linen16 cloth the table in the great cabin and that the cook's mate was staggering under weight of rich food; and when the cook called for men to hoist17 out a cask of such nectar as poor sailors know not the like of, a great cheer went up and there were more hands to haul than there was room on the rope.
The Old One, leaning on the poop, smiled and Harry18 Malcolm, coming to join him, smiled too; for they knew well the hearts of sailormen and did nothing without a purpose.
So the table was laid and the feast was spread and in came the men. Only one remained at the helm, for the wind was light, which made light his task; six remained on deck to watch and stand by, with Harry Malcolm curled against the light gun on the quarter-deck to command them; and the cook and his mate, resting from their labours far down in the hold, gorged19 themselves on good food and drank themselves drunk on nappy liquor from a cask they had cannily20 marked for their own among the cabin stores. Of the rest, all that could find room crowded into the great cabin, and all that could find no room in the cabin squatted21 on the deck outside the door on the very spot where Francis Candle had fallen dead. They sat with their backs against bulkheads and stanchions, where they, too, could join in the feast and the council; and the boy, when all were fed, gathered meat from under the table like old King Adoni-bezek of unhappy memory.
It was a sight to remember, for very merry they were and save as they were rough, hard-featured men, a man would never have dreamed they bore blood on their hands and murder on their hearts. The Old One sat at the head of the table and took care that neither food nor wine was stinted22. The carpenter, his one eye twinkling with pleasure and his beard waggling in his haste lest another should get ahead of him at trencher work, sat on the Old One's right, which was accorded him as a mark of honour since he had accomplished23 marvels24 in restoring the planking the storm had torn asunder25. A stout26 seaman27 of the rescued men, Paul Craig by name—it was he who had needed two blows to kill the helmsman—sat at the Old One's left and squared his big shoulders over his meat and ate like a hog28 till he could hold no more, for he was an ox of great girth and short temper and little wit, who ate by custom more than did him good. Another of gaunt frame, Joseph Kirk by name, sat smiling at a man here and a man there and tippled till his head wagged; and off in a corner there sat a keen little man with a hooked nose, who was older than most of those in the cabin yet had scarcely a wrinkle to mar3 the smoothness of his shaven face save above and behind his eyes, where a few deep lines gave him the wild look of a hawk29.
When he spoke30, which was seldom, thick gutturals confused his words, and always he sat in corners. Does not a man looking out of a corner, with a wall on two sides of him and no one behind him, see more than another? His Christian31 name was Jacob and most of them knew him by no other; but mocking him they called it "Yacob." Further than that, which he took with a wry32 smile, they refrained from mocking him, for though he spoke little, his silence said much.
The Old One rose and very sober he was as he held high a brimming can, and so steady was his hand that not a drop spilled. For a space he paused and looked around at the rough company seated at the long table and crouching33 in the mellow34 shadows beyond the door, then, "To the King!" he cried.
Those not knowing him well, who stared in perplexity at such a toast in such a place and time, saw his eyes twinkle and perceived he was looking at old Jacob in the corner. Then old Jacob, smiling as at a familiar jest, rose in turn and raised his can likewise, and pausing to look about him, cried back at the Old One in his thick foreign voice, "The King and his ships—be damned!"
A yell of laughter and derision shook the cabin. The one-eyed carpenter leaped up first, then such of the rescued men as were not too drunk to stand, then here and there men of the Rose of Devon's company, some eagerly in all earnestness, others having a mind to keep their throats in one piece, for they perceived that like enough the unholy toast was but to try their allegiance.
The Old One's eyes leaped from man to man and his cold voice cut through the noisy riot of drunken mirth. "I had said Will Canty was a man of spirit, but his can hugs the table when these tall fellows are drinking confusion to the King."
"A hand-napper, a hand-napper! Have him away, my hearts, to the Halifax engine," Joe Kirk bawled36 with a drunken leer.
"Why," said Will Canty, and his face was white, but with a red spot on either cheek, "my can, since you say what you say, was dry; and for the matter of that, I am no prating37 Puritan who wishes ill to the King."
Over the rumble38 of voices the Old One's voice rose loudest: "See you, then, religious cobblers or preaching button-makers among us?"
"And there are others yet besides prating Puritans, mine friend, that drink our toast!" cried Jacob.
The Old One then smiled, for he was no man to drive a nail with a two-hand sledge39. But although he changed his manner as fast and often as light flickers41 on running water, under the surface there flowed a strong, even current of liking42 or ill will, as sooner or later all men that had dealings with him must learn, some to their wonder and some to their sorrow. "Enough, enough!" said he. "Will's a good lad and he'll serve us well when there's powder smoke to snuff. Be you not offended, Will. In all faith our ship is a king's ship and more, for are we not thirty kings, to fight our own battles and heave out our own flag before the world and take such treasures as will buy us, each and all, a king's palace and all the wives a king could wish? Nay, God helping43 us, my hearts, we shall carry home to good Mother Taylor riches that will serve for a sponge to wipe the chalk from every black post in Cornwall and in Devon, and Will Canty shall drink with us there."
There rose a thunder of fists beating the board and a rumble of "Yea's," and the Old One made no end of smiling, but there were some whom his smile failed to deceive.
"Come, boy, with thy pitcher44 of sack! Pour sack for all!" he cried. "Come, ply45 thy task and let no man go wanting. Fill you Will Canty's pot." He gulped46 down a mighty47 draught48 and wiped his moustaches with thumb and forefinger49. "And now, brave lads, let us have our heads together: though we lie but a hundred leagues off these banks of Newfoundland, what say you? Shall we turn our backs on them and take a fling at a braver trade? Or shall we taste of fat lobsters50 and great cod51, and perchance pluck the feathers from some of these New England towns concerning which there hath lately been such a buzz of talk in old England—at Cape52 Ann, let us say at venture, or Naumkeag, or Plymouth Colony?"
"Yea, yea! I am for Cape Ann," cried Joe Kirk, and his head rolled drunkenly above his great shoulders as he bolstered53 his opinion with curses. "Did not my brother go thither54, years and years agone, for the company of Dorchester merchants? Yea, and told rare tales of succulent great fish, which are a marvelous diet."
"Nay, thy brother was as great a sot as thou," a voice put in, and Joe rose in anger, but a general clamour drowned his retort and he lapsed55 back into a sodden56 lethargy.
"As for me," bellowed57 Martin with bluster58 and bravado59, "I say go we to Plymouth and rap the horns of these schismatic Puritans. Tell me not but that they've mines of rich gold hid away. Did'st ever see a Roundhead knave60 would brave the wild lions of America unless he thought there was gold in't?"
"Thou thyself art fool as well as knave," quoth the Old One. "Did'st thou not once cry the whole ship's company out of sleep to see a mermaid61 that would entice62 thee to thy peril63? And when sober men had come on deck there was nought64 there but a seal-fish at play. Lions forsooth! In Africa even I have heard a lion roar, but not in America. Much searching of tracts65 hath stuffed thy head."
The drunken Joe roused sleepily up. "My brother saw a lion at Cape Ann plantation66. My brother—" He drew a knife and wildly flourished it, but fell back in a stupor67 before the laughter died.
Martin's bluster, as was its way when a man boldly confronted it, broke like a pricked68 bubble, but his sullen69 glare caught the Old One's eye.
Leaning over the table, the Old One said in a low, taunting70 voice, "And did you never see a man dance on air? Ah, there's a sight to catch the breath in your throat and make an emptiness in a man's belly71!"
As often happens when there has been a great noise and a man speaks in a low voice, there was a quick lull72 and the words came out as clear as the ringing of a half crown. Phil Marsham, looking across the table into the Old One's cold blue eyes, which were fixed73 on Martin, saw in them a flicker40 of calculating amusement; then he saw that Martin was swallowing as if he had a fishbone in his throat.
In truth Martin wore the sickly smile that a man affects when he is cornered and wishes to appear braver than he is. He tried to speak but succeeded only in running his tongue over his lips, which needed it if they were as dry as they were blue.
"Come, come, we get no place!"
"Yacob! Yacob!" they cried at the sound of his voice, "Up on thy feet, Yacob!"
He rose and stood in his corner. His long hair was brushed back from a forehead so high that it reached to a great lump on the crown of his head. His brows were knit with intense earnestness. His big nose and curled lips and small chin were set in what might have seemed in another place and another time scholarly intentness. They did him honour by waiting in silence for his words.
"This bickering74 and jangling brings us no place. Shall we go on or shall we go back? Shall we go north or shall we go south? Those are questions we must answer. Now I will tell you. If we go on, we shall find little fishing ships, with fish and no chinks, and we shall get tired of eating fish. If we go back in this fine ship that God in his goodness hath given us, we shall hang. We may yet go back to Mother Taylor, but we must go back in another ship. You know why. Now, brave hearts, if we go on to New England it shall profit us nothing. For the New-English are poor. They live in little huts. The savages75 come down out of the woods and kill. Whether there be lions I do not know and I do not care; those savages I have seen and they are a very ugly sight. The English plantations76 are cold in winter like the devil. They are poor. The English, they play with poverty.
"And if we go south? Ah-h-h! There are the Spains! They have sun and warmth and fruits and spices! They have mines of gold and silver and stones of great price. While the English play with poverty, the Spains play with empires! In New England we shall eat salt cods77 or starve—which is much the same, for salt cods are a poor diet. But in the South we shall maybe catch a galleon78 with a vast treasure." And with that, very serious and sure of his rightness, he sat down.
"Yea, Yacob! Yea, Yacob!" they bawled and delighting in the alliteration79 cried it again, over and over.
Paul Craig, heavy with sated gluttony, piped a shrill80 "Yea, Yacob," and the Old One pounded the table and grinned, for he had sailed many seas in Jacob's company. Phil Marsham—nay, and even Will Canty, too!—pricked ears at the sound of Spanish galleons81; for the blue Caribbean and the blue hills of the main were fabled82, as all knew, to hold such wealth as according to the tales of the old travellers was to be found in Cathay or along the banks of the first of the four rivers out of Paradise. And was not a Spanish ship fair prey83 for the most law-abiding of English mariners?
There was a hubbub84 of talk as they sat there, and there was no doubt but they were of one mind to turn their backs on the bleak85 northern coast and seek a golden fortune in the south. But the council arrived suddenly at an end when down from the deck came the lingering call, "A sa-i-l! A sa-i-l!"
Up, then, the Old One leaped, and he raised his hand. "A sail is cried. What say you?"
"Let us not cast away what God hath offered us!"
"Yea, Yacob!"
"Up, you dogs in the steerage! A hall, a hall!"
One fell over on the table in drunken torpor86. Another rushed out the door and tumbled over a sleeper87 at the threshold.
"Up, you dogs! How stands he?"
They poured out of the cabin to the deck.
"He stands on the lee bow!"
"Bear up the helm! A fresh man at the helm!" the Old One thundered. He squinted88 across the sea. "Come, Harry—here on the poop—and tell me if she be not a ketch. Now she lifts—now she falls. 'Twill be a chase, I take it."
The round little mate came nimbly up the ladder.
"Helm a-luff!" said he in his light, quick voice, which at first the helmsman failed to hear. "Helm a-luff! A-luff, man! Art deaf? The courses hide her. There she lifts! Yea, a ketch. Let us see. It is now an hour to sunset. If we stand across her bows and bear a sharp watch we shall come up with her in early evening and a very proper moment it will be."
His light, incisive89 speech, so unlike the boisterous90 ranting91 of the Old One, in its own way curiously92 influenced even the Old One himself. A man who has a trick of getting at sound reasons, unmoved by bluster or emotion, can hold his own in any company; and many a quiet voice can fire a ship's crew to action as a slow match fires a cannon93.
"Now, young men," Martin roared, "up aloft and loose fore35 and main topsails. And oh that our stout mizzenmast were standing94 yet!"
"No, no, no!" cried Harry Malcolm and he almost raised his voice. "Thy haste, thou pop-eyed fool, would work the end of us all. Think you, if they see us fling every sail to the wind, they will abide95 our coming without charging their guns and stationing every gunner with linstock and lighted match? Nay, though she be but a ketch, let us go limping across her bows as lame96 as a pipped hen."
"True, and with every man lying by the side of his gun, where they shall not see him until we haul up the ports and show the teeth of the good ship." It was Jacob who spoke thus as he climbed to Harry Malcolm's side.
The Old One, looking down at the deck below, touched his mate's arm.
"Yea, I see them. What do you want?"
"It seems," said the Old One, "that our boatswain hath a liking for the fellow."
"And that the fellow hath a liking for our boatswain, think you?"
"Well?"
Jacob thrust his long nose between them. "'Well,' you say, by which you mean 'not well.' It proves nothing that a man will not drink damnation to a king."
The three heads met, high on the poop, and now and again they glanced down at the two lads who stood by the waist and watched the distant sail, which grew black as the sun set behind it.
The sun set and the sea darkened and a light flamed up on board the chase, which appeared to show her good faith by standing toward the Rose of Devon.
There was a rumble of laughter among the men when they perceived she had changed her course. The sober wrung97 oaths from the drunk by dashing bucketfuls of cold water in their faces. The gunners moved like shadows among the guns. And high on the poop, three shadows again merged98 into one.
"Master Boatswain," the Old One called, but softly, "do thou take it upon thyself, although it lies outside thine own province, to make sure that powder and balls and sponges and ladles and rammers are laid ready."
Hunching99 his bent100 shoulders, Mate Malcolm came nimbly down the ladder and from the chest of arms drew forth muskets101 and pistols.
"Come, my bullies102 below there, knock open your ports!" It was the Old One's voice, but so softly and briskly did he speak that it might have been Harry Malcolm.
As the dim figures on deck moved cautiously about, the subdued103 voice again floated down to them:—
"Let all the guns be loose in tackles and stand by to run them out when the word is given. Port your helm! Every man to his quarters. Now, my hearts, be ready to show your courage and we'll have this wandering ketch for a consort104 to our good Rose of Devon."
Then Harry Malcolm came in haste along the deck. "Who's to this gun? And who to this? Nay, you've a man too many there. Here, fellow, come hither! Here a man is lacking. You there, who are playing the part of gunner, have you ever heard these bulldogs bark? And understand you the business? Good, good!" And he passed on up the deck. Nought escaped him. In the silence they heard the sound of his voice and the quick pattering of his feet when they could see no more than that he was still moving among the guns.
They had come so near the stranger that they must soon hail or be hailed, when a figure emerging from the steerage room in the darkness came upon Phil Marsham by the quarter-deck ladder and gave a great start. As Phil turned, the fellow whispered, "God be thanked it is thou! I thought it was another. Come with me to the side—here by the shrouds105."
The two stepped lightly under the shadow of the quarter-deck to the waist, where the carpenter had nailed in place new planks106 not twelve hours since, and together they raised a bundle. It was on the larboard side, and since all had gathered for the moment to starboard to watch the strange ketch, there was no man to observe them. Some one moved above them and they hesitated, then they heard slow steps receding107 and thick undertones that they recognized as Jacob's. When he had gone, the one who had brought the bundle whispered, "Heave it far out," and together they hove it.
Still in the shadow of the quarter-deck, the two slipped silently back, unseen, and when Harry Malcolm came hurrying from one side, and Jacob from the other, to see what had made the splash, there was no one there nor could any man answer their questions.
"Have you done as you said?" Phil asked in a breathless whisper.
"That I have." And it was Will Canty who spoke.
"Then we shall like enough be hanged; but thou art a tall fellow and I love thee for it."
There came over the water a voice distinctly calling, "Whence your ship?"
"Back to your guns, ye dogs!" cried Mate Malcolm in a voice that could be heard the length of the deck, yet that was not loud enough to be heard on board the stranger.
"Of England," the Old One called from the quarter-deck. "And whence is yours?"
There was a space of silence, in which the two vessels108 came nearer each other, and I would have you know that hearts ever so courageous110 were thumping111 at a lively pace.
"And yours?" the Old One cried the second time.
"Of the sea," cried the Old One in a voice so like thunder that a man would not think it could have come from his lean throat. "Run out your guns, O my hearts! Let him have the chase guns first. The chase guns—the chase guns!"
Now one bawled down the main hatch, and another below echoed his cry, then there sounded the quick boom-boom from the bows. The guns had spoken and the fight was on.
"Up your helm—up your helm! Hold your fire now, my hearts, and have at them!" the Old One cried.
And now the voice came again over the restless sea. "Our ship is the Porcupine113 ketch and our quills114 are set."
The dark sea tossed and rolled between the vessels and little that happened on board either was visible to the other, so black was the night; but the light of the sky, which the water reflected, made of each a black shape clear-cut as of jet but finer than the most cunning hand could carve, in which a man might trace every line and rope.
And now from on board the ketch jets of flame burst out and after them came smartly the crack of muskets.
"Now, lads," the Old One thundered, "give fire and make an end of this petty galling115. Give fire!"
A gun on the maintop-deck boomed and another followed; but there was confusion and stumbling and all were slow for want of practice together, and there was time lost ere the third gun spoke. Then, while Mate Malcolm was storming up the deck and the Old One was storming down, they heard the strange master calling to his gunners; then, to the vast amazement116 of the men of the Rose of Devon, who had cherished the delusion117 that their chase was a weak craft and an easy prize, on board the ketch as many as a dozen guns belched118 flame. Their thunder shook the sea and their balls sang through the rigging, and a lucky shot struck the Rose of Devon in the forecastle and went crashing through the bulkhead.
The ketch then tacked119 as if to give fire with her other broadside but deftly120 swung back again and before the Old One or Harry Malcolm had fathomed121 the meaning of it there rose from on board her, the cries of "Bear up and close with him!"—"Board him on his quarter!" "Have ready your graplins!"
"Sheer off, sheer off!" old Jacob roared. "Our powder is good for nought. Yea, she is in all truth a prickly porcupine."
"If we foul122, cut anything to get clear!" cried the Old One. "Put down your helm! Veer123 out your sheets! Cast off weather sheets and braces124! Aloft, there, and clear the main yard where the cut tacklings foul it! Good lad, boatswain, good lad!"
For on the yardarm Phil had drawn125 dirk and cut at the snarl126 of ropes, where a chance ball had wrought127 much mischief128. Then, as the two vessels swung side by side he looked squarely into the eyes of a bearded man in the rigging of the ketch.
The Old One—give the Devil his due!—was handling his ship in a proper manner and by luffing he had kept abreast129 of those guns in the ketch which had spent their charges. But it was plain that the Rose of Devon had caught a tartar. In all truth, she had run upon a porcupine with quills set, for though a smaller vessel109, the ketch, it now appeared, carried as many men or more, and every man knew his place and duty. Looking down on her deck, Phil saw her gun crews toiling130 with sponges and rammers to load anew.
She was herself, it seemed, a sea rover athirst for blood and in those wild, remote seas there was no fraternity among thieves. As the main yardarm of the Rose of Devon swung toward her rigging when the ship rolled, the bearded man ran a rope about the spar and in a moment the vessels were locked abeam131 and were drifting together till their sides should touch.
Philip Marsham again drew the dirk that Colin Samson had wrought for him and leaning far out struck at the fellow's breast, who swung back to avoid the thrust, which pricked him but did no more. Then the fellow sprang to the attack with his own knife in hand, for he had thrown a knot in the rope, which creaked and tightened132; and with a yell of triumph he struck at the lad, who swung to one side and struck back.
It was a brave fight in the empty air, and the two were like warring spiders as they circled and swung in the darkness and thrust each at the other. But the lad was many years the younger, and by so much the more nimble, and his dirk—for which all thanks to Colin Samson!—smote the fellow a slashing133 blow in the thigh134. And while the fellow clung to the shrouds, weak with pain, a second Rose-of-Devon's man came crawling over Phil who hung below from the yard, and slashed135 the rope.
"We are clear! We are clear! God be thanked!" the Old One yelled.
Meanwhile the men of the Rose of Devon had succeeded in firing three guns of the larboard broadside, which by the grace of Divine Providence136 wrought such ruin in the stranger's running gear that the one crew of rascals137 was enabled to escape fit retribution at the hands of the other. The peak of her great foresail fell and in a moment her cut halyards were swept into a snarl that needed time and daylight for untangling.
So the Rose of Devon slipped past the ketch, whose men were striving to clear the rigging and come about in pursuit, and having once evaded138 her erstwhile chase, the old ship ran away in the night. With her lights out and all the sail spread that she could carry, and favoured by clouds and fog, she made good her escape; but there was grumbling139 forward and grumbling aft, and there was a dead man to heave over the side.
It served Philip Marsham better than he knew that he had fought a duel140 on the yardarm; for dark though the night had been, there had happened little that escaped the Old One's eye; and bitter though Tom Jordan's temper and angry his mood, he was always one to give credit where he believed it due.
When he wiped the blood from the dirk, Phil remembered with gratitude141 the good smith, Colin Samson. Then he thought of the old lady and gentleman at the inn, and of Nell Entick, and bluff142 Sir John. He would have been glad enough to be out of the Rose of Devon and away, but for better or worse he had cast his lot in the ship, and though he little liked the lawless turn her affairs had taken, a man cannot run away by night from a ship on the high seas.
All hands stood watch till dawn as a tribute to the war of one pirate upon another, and not until the sun had risen and shown no sail in sight did the Old One himself go into the great cabin.
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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unearth
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| v.发掘，掘出，从洞中赶出 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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filch
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| v.偷窃 | |
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victuals
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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parsimonious
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| adj.吝啬的，质量低劣的 | |
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mariners
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| 海员，水手（mariner的复数形式） | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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gorged
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| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 )；作呕 | |
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cannily
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squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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stinted
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| v.限制，节省（stint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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23
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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24
marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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25
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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28
hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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29
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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30
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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31
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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32
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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33
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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34
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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35
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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36
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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37
prating
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| v.（古时用语）唠叨，啰唆( prate的现在分词 ) | |
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38
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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39
sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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40
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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41
flickers
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| 电影制片业； （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的名词复数 ) | |
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42
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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43
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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44
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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45
ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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46
gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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47
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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48
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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49
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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50
lobsters
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| 龙虾( lobster的名词复数 )； 龙虾肉 | |
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51
cod
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| n.鳕鱼；v.愚弄；哄骗 | |
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52
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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53
bolstered
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| v.支持( bolster的过去式和过去分词 )；支撑；给予必要的支持；援助 | |
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54
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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55
lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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56
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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57
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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58
bluster
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| v.猛刮；怒冲冲的说；n.吓唬，怒号；狂风声 | |
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59
bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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60
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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61
mermaid
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| n.美人鱼 | |
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62
entice
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| v.诱骗，引诱，怂恿 | |
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63
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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64
nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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65
tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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66
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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67
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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68
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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69
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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70
taunting
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| 嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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71
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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72
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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73
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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74
bickering
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| v.争吵( bicker的现在分词 )；口角；（水等）作潺潺声；闪烁 | |
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75
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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76
plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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77
cods
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| n.鳕鱼（cod的复数形式）v.哄骗，愚弄（cod的第三人称单数形式） | |
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78
galleon
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| n.大帆船 | |
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79
alliteration
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| n.（诗歌的）头韵 | |
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80
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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81
galleons
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| n.大型帆船( galleon的名词复数 ) | |
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82
fabled
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| adj.寓言中的，虚构的 | |
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83
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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84
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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85
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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86
torpor
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| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
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87
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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88
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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89
incisive
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| adj.敏锐的，机敏的，锋利的，切入的 | |
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90
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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91
ranting
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| v.夸夸其谈( rant的现在分词 )；大叫大嚷地以…说教；气愤地)大叫大嚷；不停地大声抱怨 | |
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92
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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93
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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94
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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95
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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96
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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97
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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98
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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99
hunching
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| 隆起（hunch的现在分词形式） | |
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100
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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101
muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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102
bullies
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| n.欺凌弱小者, 开球 vt.恐吓, 威胁, 欺负 | |
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103
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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104
consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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105
shrouds
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| n.裹尸布( shroud的名词复数 )；寿衣；遮蔽物；覆盖物v.隐瞒( shroud的第三人称单数 )；保密 | |
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106
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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107
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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108
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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109
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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110
courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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111
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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112
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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113
porcupine
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| n.豪猪， 箭猪 | |
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114
quills
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| n.（刺猬或豪猪的）刺( quill的名词复数 )；羽毛管；翮；纡管 | |
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115
galling
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| adj.难堪的,使烦恼的,使焦躁的 | |
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116
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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117
delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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118
belched
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| v.打嗝( belch的过去式和过去分词 )；喷出，吐出；打（嗝）；嗳（气） | |
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119
tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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120
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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121
fathomed
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| 理解…的真意( fathom的过去式和过去分词 )； 彻底了解； 弄清真相 | |
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122
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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123
veer
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| vt.转向，顺时针转，改变；n.转向 | |
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124
braces
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| n.吊带，背带；托架( brace的名词复数 )；箍子；括弧；（儿童）牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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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
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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127
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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128
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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129
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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130
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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131
abeam
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| adj.正横着(的) | |
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132
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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133
slashing
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| adj.尖锐的；苛刻的；鲜明的；乱砍的v.挥砍( slash的现在分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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134
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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135
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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136
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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137
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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138
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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139
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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