Chapter 1
'Might I observe, sir—'
'The rules say—'
'I have given my decision. Twenty-five!' A spot of red appeared on the official cheek. The referee, who had been heckled since the kick-off, was beginning to be annoyed.
'The ball went behind without bouncing, and the rules say—'
'Twenty-FIVE!!' shouted the referee. 'I am perfectly3 well aware what the rules say.' And he blew his whistle with an air of finality. The secretary of the Bargees' F.C. subsided4 reluctantly, and the game was restarted.
The Bargees' match was a curious institution. Their real name was the Old Crockfordians. When, a few years before, the St Austin's secretary had received a challenge from them, dated from Stapleton, where their secretary happened to reside, he had argued within himself as follows: 'This sounds all right. Old Crockfordians? Never heard of Crockford. Probably some large private school somewhere. Anyhow, they're certain to be decent fellows.' And he arranged the fixture5. It then transpired6 that Old Crockford was a village, and, from the appearance of the team on the day of battle, the Old Crockfordians seemed to be composed exclusively of the riff-raff of same. They wore green shirts with a bright yellow leopard7 over the heart, and C.F.C. woven in large letters about the chest. One or two of the outsides played in caps, and the team to a man criticized the referee's decisions with point and pungency9. Unluckily, the first year saw a weak team of Austinians rather badly beaten, with the result that it became a point of honour to wipe this off the slate10 before the fixture could be cut out of the card. The next year was also unlucky. The Bargees managed to score a penalty goal in the first half, and won on that. The match resulted in a draw in the following season, and by this time the thing had become an annual event.
Now, however, the School was getting some of its own back. The Bargees had brought down a player of some reputation from the North, and were as strong as ever in the scrum. But St Austin's had a great team, and were carrying all before them. Charteris and Graham at half had the ball out to their centres in a way which made Merevale, who looked after the football of the School, feel that life was worth living. And when once it was out, things happened rapidly. MacArthur, the captain of the team, with Thomson as his fellow-centre, and Welch and Bannister on the wings, did what they liked with the Bargees' three-quarters. All the School outsides had scored, even the back, who dropped a neat goal. The player from the North had scarcely touched the ball during the whole game, and altogether the Bargees were becoming restless and excited.
The kick-off from the twenty-five line which followed upon the small discussion alluded13 to above, reached Graham. Under ordinary circumstances he would have kicked, but in a winning game original methods often pay. He dodged14 a furious sportsman in green and yellow, and went away down the touch-line. He was almost through when he stumbled. He recovered himself, but too late. Before he could pass, someone was on him. Graham was not heavy, and his opponent was muscular. He was swung off his feet, and the next moment the two came down together, Graham underneath17. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder.
A doctor emerged from the crowd—there is always a doctor in a crowd—and made an examination.
'Anything bad?' asked the referee.
'Collar-bone,' said the doctor. 'The usual, you know. Rather badly smashed. Nothing dangerous, of course. Be all right in a month or so. Stop his playing. Rather a pity. Much longer before half-time?'
'No. I was just going to blow the whistle when this happened.'
'I say, Charteris,' said MacArthur, 'who the deuce am I to put half instead of Graham?'
'Rogers used to play half in his childhood, I believe. But, I say, did you ever see such a scrag? Can't you protest, or something?'
'My dear chap, how can I? It's on our own ground. These Bargee beasts are visitors, if you come to think of it. I'd like to wring19 the chap's neck who did it. I didn't spot who it was. Did you see?'
'Rather. Their secretary. That man with the beard. I'll get Prescott to mark him this half.'
Prescott was the hardest tackler in the School. He accepted the commission cheerfully, and promised to do his best by the bearded one.
Charteris certainly gave him every opportunity. When he threw the ball out of touch, he threw it neatly20 to the criminal with the beard, and Prescott, who stuck to him closer than a brother, had generally tackled him before he knew what had happened. After a time he began to grow thoughtful, and when there was a line-out went and stood among the three-quarters. In this way much of Charteris's righteous retribution miscarried, but once or twice he had the pleasure and privilege of putting in a piece of tackling on his own account. The match ended with the enemy still intact, but considerably21 shaken. He was also rather annoyed. He spoke22 to Charteris on the subject as they were leaving the field.
'That must have been nice for you,' said Charteris.
'You wait.'
'Certainly. Any time you're passing, I'm sure—'
'You ain't 'eard the last of me yet.'
'That's something of a blow,' said Charteris cheerfully, and they parted.
Charteris, having got into his blazer, ran after Welch and MacArthur, and walked back with them to the House. All three of them were at Merevale's.
'Poor old Tony,' said MacArthur. 'Where have they taken him to? The House?'
'Yes,' said Welch. 'I say, Babe, you ought to scratch this match next year. Tell 'em the card's full up or something.'
'Oh, I don't know. One expects fairly rough play in this sort of game. After all, we tackle pretty hard ourselves. I know I always try and go my hardest. If the man happens to be brittle25, that's his lookout,' concluded the bloodthirsty Babe.
'My dear man,' said Charteris, 'there's all the difference between a decent tackle and a bally scrag like the one that doubled Tony up. You can't break a chap's collar-bone without trying to.'
'Well, if you come to think of it, I suppose the man must have been fairly riled. You can't expect a man to be in an angelic temper when his side's been licked by thirty points.'
The Babe was one of those thoroughly26 excellent persons who always try, when possible, to make allowances for everybody.
'Well, dash it,' said Charteris indignantly, 'if he had lost his hair he might have drawn27 the line at falling on Tony like that. It wasn't the tackling part of it that crocked him. The beast simply jumped on him like a Hooligan. Anyhow, I made him sit up a bit before we finished. I gave Prescott the tip to mark him out of touch. Have you ever been collared by Prescott? It's a liberal education. Now, there you are, you see. Take Prescott. He's never crocked a man seriously in his life. I don't count being winded. That's absolutely an accident. Well, there you are, then. Prescott weighs thirteen-ten, and he's all muscle, and he goes like a battering-ram. You'll own that. He goes as hard as he jolly well knows how, and yet the worst he has ever done is to lay a man out for a couple of minutes while he gets his wind back. Well, compare him with this Bargee man. The Bargee weighs a stone less and isn't nearly as strong, and yet he smashes Tony's collar-bone. It's all very well, Babe, but you can't get away from it. Prescott tackles fairly and the Bargee scrags.'
'Yes,' said MacArthur, 'I suppose you're right.'
'Rather,' said Charteris. 'I wish I'd broken his neck.'
'By the way,' said Welch, 'you were talking to him after the match. What was he saying?'
Charteris laughed.
'By Jove, I'd forgotten; he said I hadn't heard the last of him, and that I was to wait.'
'What did you say?'
'Oh, I behaved beautifully. I asked him to be sure and look in any time he was passing, and after a few chatty remarks we parted.'
'I wonder if he meant anything.'
'I believe he means to waylay28 me with a buckled29 belt. I shan't stir out except with the Old Man or some other competent bodyguard31. "'Orrible outrage32, shocking death of a St Austin's schoolboy." It would look rather well on the posters.'
Welch stuck strenuously33 to the point.
'No, but, look here, Charteris,' he said seriously, 'I'm not rotting. You see, the man lives in Stapleton, and if he knows anything of School rules—'
'Which he doesn't probably. Why should he? Well?'—'If he knows anything of the rules, he'll know that Stapleton's out of bounds, and he may book you there and run you in to Merevale.'
'Yes,' said MacArthur. 'I tell you what, you'd do well to knock off a few of your expeditions to Stapleton. You know you wouldn't go there once a month if it wasn't out of bounds. You'll be a prefect next term. I should wait till then, if I were you.'
'My dear chap, what does it matter? The worst that can happen to you for breaking bounds is a couple of hundred lines, and I've got a capital of four hundred already in stock. Besides, things would be so slow if you always kept in bounds. I always feel like a cross between Dick Turpin and Machiavelli when I go to Stapleton. It's an awfully34 jolly feeling. Like warm treacle35 running down your back. It's cheap at two hundred lines.'
'You're an awful fool,' said Welch, rudely but correctly.
Welch was a youth who treated the affairs of other people rather too seriously. He worried over them. This is not a particularly common trait in the character of either boy or man, but Welch had it highly developed. He could not probably have explained exactly why he was worried, but he undoubtedly36 was. Welch had a very grave and serious mind. He shared a study with Charteris—for Charteris, though not yet a School-prefect, was part owner of a study—and close observation had convinced him that the latter was not responsible for his actions, and that he wanted somebody to look after him. He had therefore elected himself to the post of a species of modified and unofficial guardian37 angel to him. The duties were heavy, and the remuneration exceedingly light.
'Really, you know,' said MacArthur, 'I don't see what the point of all your lunacy is. I don't know if you're aware of it, but the Old Man's getting jolly sick with you.'
'I didn't know,' said Charteris, 'but I'm very glad to hear it. For hist! I have a ger-rudge against the person. Beneath my ban that mystic man shall suffer, coute que coute, Matilda. He sat upon me—publicly, and the resultant blot38 on my scutcheon can only be wiped out with blood, or broken rules,' he added.
This was true. To listen to Charteris on the subject, one might have thought that he considered the matter rather amusing than otherwise. This, however, was simply due to the fact that he treated everything flippantly in conversation. But, like the parrot, he thought the more. The actual casus belli had been trivial. At least the mere12 spectator would have considered it trivial. It had happened after this fashion. Charteris was a member of the School corps39. The orderly-room of the School corps was in the junior part of the School buildings. Charteris had been to replace his rifle in that shrine40 of Mars after a mid-day drill, and on coming out into the passage had found himself in the middle of a junior school 'rag' of the conventional type. Somebody's cap had fallen off, and two hastily picked teams were playing football with it (Association rules). Now, Charteris was not a prefect (that, it may be observed in passing, was another source of bitterness in him towards the Powers, for he was fairly high up in the Sixth, and others of his set, Welch, Thomson, and Tony Graham, who were also in the Sixth—the two last below him in form order—had already received their prefects' caps). Not being a prefect, it would have been officious in him to have stopped the game. So he was passing on with what Mr Hurry Bungsho Jabberjee, B.A., would have termed a beaming simper of indescribable suavity41, when a member of one of the opposing teams, in effecting a G. O. Smithian dribble42, cannoned43 into him. To preserve his balance—this will probably seem a very thin line of defence, but 'I state but the facts'—he grabbed at the disciple44 of Smith amidst applause, and at that precise moment a new actor appeared on the scene—the Headmaster. Now, of all the things that lay in his province, the Headmaster most disliked to see a senior 'ragging' with a junior. He had a great idea of the dignity of the senior school, and did all that in him lay to see that it was kept up. The greater number of the juniors with whom the senior was found ragging, the more heinous45 the offence. Circumstantial evidence was dead against Charteris. To all outward appearances he was one of the players in the impromptu46 football match. The soft and fascinating beams of the simper, to quote Mr Jabberjee once more, had not yet faded from the act. A well-chosen word or two from the Headmagisterial lips put a premature48 end to the football match, and Charteris was proceeding49 on his way when the Headmaster called him. He stopped. The Headmaster was angry. So angry, indeed, that he did what in a more lucid50 interval51 he would not have done. He hauled a senior over the coals in the hearing of a number of juniors, one of whom (unidentified) giggled52 loudly. As Charteris had on previous occasions observed, the Old Man, when he did start to take a person's measure, didn't leave out much. The address was not long, but it covered a great deal of ground. The section of it which chiefly rankled53 in Charteris's mind, and which had continued to rankle54 ever since, was that in which the use of the word 'buffoon55' had occurred. Everybody who has a gift of humour and (very naturally) enjoys exercising it, hates to be called a buffoon. It was Charteris's one weak spot. Every other abusive epithet56 in the language slid off him without penetrating57 or causing him the least discomfort58. The word 'buffoon' went home, right up to the hilt. And, to borrow from Mr Jabberjee for positively59 the very last time, he had observed (mentally): 'Henceforward I will perpetrate heaps of the lowest dregs of vice60.' He had, in fact, started a perfect bout8 of breaking rules, simply because they were rules. The injustice61 of the thing rankled. No one so dislikes being punished unjustly as the person who might have been punished justly on scores of previous occasions, if he had only been found out. To a certain extent, Charteris ran amok. He broke bounds and did little work, and—he was beginning gradually to find this out—got thoroughly tired of it all. Offended dignity, however, still kept him at it, and much as he would have preferred to have resumed a less feverish62 type of existence, he did not do so.
'I have a ger-rudge against the man,' he said.
'You are an idiot, really,' said Welch.
'Welch,' said Charteris, by way of explanation to MacArthur, 'is a lad of coarse fibre. He doesn't understand the finer feelings. He can't see that I am doing this simply for the Old Man's good. Spare the rod, spile the choild. Let's go and have a look at Tony when we're changed. He'll be in the sick-room if he's anywhere.'
'All right,' said the Babe, as he went into his study. 'Buck30 up. I'll toss you for first bath in a second.'
Charteris walked on with Welch to their sanctum.
'You know,' said Welch seriously, stooping to unlace his boots, 'rotting apart, you really are a most awful ass16. I wish I could get you to see it.'
'Never you mind, ducky,' said Charteris, 'I'm all right. I'll look after myself.'
Chapter 2
It was about a week after the Bargees' match that the rules respecting bounds were made stricter, much to the popular indignation. The penalty for visiting Stapleton without leave was increased from two hundred lines to two extra lessons. The venomous characteristic of extra lesson was that it cut into one's football, for the criminal was turned into a form-room from two till four on half-holidays, and so had to scratch all athletic65 engagements for the day, unless he chose to go for a solitary66 run afterwards. In the cricket term the effect of this was not so deadly. It was just possible that you might get an innings somewhere after four o'clock, even if only at the nets. But during the football season—it was now February—to be in extra lesson meant a total loss of everything that makes life endurable, and the School protested (to one another, in the privacy of their studies) with no uncertain voice against this barbarous innovation.
The reason for the change had been simple. At the corner of the High Street at Stapleton was a tobacconist's shop, and Mr Prater67, strolling in one evening to renew his stock of Pioneer, was interested to observe P. St H. Harrison, of Merevale's, purchasing a consignment68 of 'Girl of my Heart' cigarettes (at twopence-halfpenny the packet of twenty, including a coloured picture of Lord Kitchener). Now, Mr Prater was one of the most sportsmanlike of masters. If he had merely met Harrison out of bounds, and it had been possible to have overlooked him, he would have done so. But such a proceeding in the interior of a small shop was impossible. There was nothing to palliate the crime. The tobacconist also kept the wolf from the door, and lured70 the juvenile71 population of the neighbourhood to it, by selling various weird73 brands of sweets, but it was only too obvious that Harrison was not after these. Guilt74 was in his eye, and the packet of cigarettes in his hand. Also Harrison's House cap was fixed75 firmly at the back of his head. Mr Prater finished buying his Pioneer, and went out without a word. That night it was announced to Harrison that the Headmaster wished to see him. The Headmaster saw him, though for a certain period of the interview he did not see the Headmaster, having turned his back on him by request. On the following day Stapleton was placed doubly out of bounds.
Tony, who was still in bed, had not heard the news when Charteris came to see him on the evening of the day on which the edict had gone forth76.
'How are you getting on?' asked Charteris.
'Oh, fairly well. It's rather slow.'
'The grub seems all right.' Charteris absently reached out for a slice of cake.
'Not bad.'
'And you don't have to do any work.'
'No.'
'Well, then, it seems to me you're having a jolly good time. What don't you like about it?'
'It's so slow, being alone all day.'
'Makes you appreciate intellectual conversation all the more when you get it. Mine, for instance.'
'I want something to read.'
'I'll bring you a Sidgwick's Greek Prose Composition, if you like. Full of racy stories.'
'I've read 'em, thanks.'
'How about Jebb's Homer? You'd like that. Awfully interesting. Proves that there never was such a man as Homer, you know, and that the Iliad and the Odyssey77 were produced by evolution. General style, quietly funny. Make you roar.'
'Don't be an idiot. I'm simply starving for something to read. Haven't you got anything?'
'You've read all mine.'
'Hasn't Welch got any books?'
'Not one. He bags mine when he wants to read. I'll tell you what I will do if you like.'
'What?'
'Go into Stapleton, and borrow something from Adamson.' Adamson was the College doctor.
'By Jove, that's not a bad idea.'
'It's a dashed good idea, which wouldn't have occurred to anybody but a genius. I've been quite a pal69 of Adamson's ever since I had the flu. I go to tea with him occasionally, and we talk medical shop. Have you ever tried talking medical shop during tea? Nothing like it for giving you an appetite.'
'Has he got anything readable?'
'Rather. Have you ever tried anything of James Payn's?'
'I've read Terminations, or something,' said Tony doubtfully, 'but he's so obscure.'
'Don't,' said Charteris sadly, 'please don't. Terminations is by one Henry James, and there is a substantial difference between him and James Payn. Anyhow, if you want a short biography of James Payn, he wrote a hundred books, and they're all simply ripping, and Adamson has got a good many of them, and I'm hoping to borrow a couple—any two will do—and you're going to read them. I know one always bars a book that's recommended to one, but you've got no choice. You're not going to get anything else till you've finished those two.'
'All right,' said Tony. 'But Stapleton's out of bounds. I suppose Merevale'll give you leave to go in.'
'He won't,' said Charteris. 'I shan't ask him. On principle. So long.'
On the following afternoon Charteris went into Stapleton. The distance by road was almost exactly one mile. If you went by the fields it was longer, because you probably lost your way.
Dr Adamson's house was in the High Street. Charteris knocked at the door. The servant was sorry, but the doctor was out. Her tone seemed to suggest that, if she had had any say in the matter, he would have remained in. Would Charteris come in and wait? Charteris rather thought he would. He waited for half an hour, and then, as the absent medico did not appear to be coming, took two books from the shelf, wrote a succinct78 note explaining what he had done, and why he had done it, hoping the doctor would not mind, and went out with his literary trophies79 into the High Street again.
The time was now close on five o'clock. Lock-up was not till a quarter past six—six o'clock nominally80, but the doors were always left open till a quarter past. It would take him about fifteen minutes to get back, less if he trotted82. Obviously, the thing to do here was to spend a thoughtful quarter of an hour or so inspecting the sights of the town. These were ordinarily not numerous, but this particular day happened to be market day, and there was a good deal going on. The High Street was full of farmers, cows, and other animals, the majority of the former well on the road to intoxication83. It is, of course, extremely painful to see a man in such a condition, but when such a person is endeavouring to count a perpetually moving drove of pigs, the onlooker's pain is sensibly diminished. Charteris strolled along the High Street observing these and other phenomena84 with an attentive85 eye. Opposite the Town Hall he was button-holed by a perfect stranger, whom, by his conversation, he soon recognized as the Stapleton 'character'. There is a 'character' in every small country town. He is not a bad character; still less is he a good character. He is just a 'character' pure and simple. This particular man—or rather, this man, for he was anything but particular—apparently took a great fancy to Charteris at first sight. He backed him gently against a wall, and insisted on telling him an interminable anecdote86 of his shady past, when, it seemed, he had been a 'super' in some travelling company. The plot of the story, as far as Charteris could follow it, dealt with a theatrical87 tour in Dublin, where some person or persons unknown had, with malice88 prepense, scattered89 several pounds of snuff on the stage previous to a performance of Hamlet; and, according to the 'character', when the ghost of Hamlet's father sneezed steadily90 throughout his great scene, there was not a dry eye in the house. The 'character' had concluded that anecdote, and was half-way through another, when Charteris, looking at his watch, found that it was almost six o'clock. He interrupted one of the 'character's' periods by diving past him and moving rapidly down the street. The historian did not seem to object. Charteris looked round and saw that he had button-holed a fresh victim. He was still gazing in one direction and walking in another, when he ran into somebody.
'Sorry,' said Charteris hastily. 'Hullo!'
It was the secretary of the Old Crockfordians, and, to judge from the scowl91 on that gentleman's face, the recognition was mutual92.
'It's you, is it?' said the secretary in his polished way.
'I believe so,' said Charteris.
'Out of bounds,' observed the man.
Charteris was surprised. This grasp of technical lore93 on the part of a total outsider was as unexpected as it was gratifying.
'What do you know about bounds?' said Charteris.
'I know you ain't allowed to come 'ere, and you'll get it 'ot from your master for coming.'
'Ah, but he won't know. I shan't tell him, and I'm sure you will respect my secret.'
Charteris smiled in a winning manner.
'Ho!' said the man, 'Ho indeed!'
There is something very clinching94 about the word 'Ho'. It seems definitely to apply the closure to any argument. At least, I have never yet met anyone who could tell me the suitable repartee95.
'Well,' said Charteris affably, 'don't let me keep you. I must be going on.'
'Ho!' observed the man once more. 'Ho indeed!'
'That's a wonderfully shrewd remark,' said Charteris. 'I can see that, but I wish you'd tell me exactly what it means.'
'You're out of bounds.'
'Your mind seems to run in a groove96. You can't get off that bounds business. How do you know Stapleton's out of bounds?'
'I have made enquiries,' said the man darkly.
'By Jove,' said Charteris delightedly, 'this is splendid. You're a regular sleuth-hound. I dare say you've found out my name and House too?'
'I may 'ave,' said the man, 'or I may not 'ave.'
'Well, now you mention it, I suppose one of the two contingencies97 is probable. Well, I'm awfully glad to have met you. Good-bye. I must be going.'
'You're goin' with me.'
'Arm in arm?'
'I don't want to 'ave to take you.'
'No,' said Charteris, 'I should jolly well advise you not to try. This is my way.'
He walked on till he came to the road that led to St Austin's. The secretary of the Old Crockfordians stalked beside him with determined98 stride.
'Now,' said Charteris, when they were on the road, 'you mustn't mind if I walk rather fast. I'm in a hurry.'
Charteris's idea of walking rather fast was to dash off down the road at quarter-mile pace. The move took the man by surprise, but, after a moment, he followed with much panting. It was evident that he was not in training. Charteris began to feel that the walk home might be amusing in its way. After they had raced some three hundred yards he slowed down to a walk again. It was at this point that his companion evinced a desire to do the rest of the journey with a hand on the collar of his coat.
'If you touch me,' observed Charteris with a surprising knowledge of legal minutiae99, 'it'll be a technical assault, and you'll get run in; and you'll get beans anyway if you try it on.'
The man reconsidered matters, and elected not to try it on.
Half a mile from the College Charteris began to walk rather fast again. He was a good half-miler, and his companion was bad at every distance. After a game struggle he dropped to the rear, and finished a hundred yards behind in considerable straits. Charteris shot in at Merevale's door with five minutes to spare, and went up to his study to worry Welch by telling him about it.
'Welch, you remember the Bargee who scragged Tony? Well, there have been all sorts of fresh developments. He's just been pacing me all the way from Stapleton.'
'Stapleton! Have you been to Stapleton? Did Merevale give you leave?'
'No. I didn't ask him.'
'You are an idiot. And now this Bargee man will go straight to the Old Man and run you in. I wonder you didn't think of that.'
'Curious I didn't.'
'I suppose he saw you come in here?'
'Rather. He couldn't have had a better view if he'd paid for a seat. Half a second; I must just run up with these volumes to Tony.'
When he came back he found Welch more serious than ever.
'I told you so,' said Welch. 'You're to go to the Old Man at once. He's just sent over for you. I say, look here, if it's only lines I don't mind doing some of them, if you like.'
Charteris was quite touched by this sporting offer.
'It's awfully good of you,' he said, 'but it doesn't matter, really. I shall be all right.'
Ten minutes later he returned, beaming.
'Well,' said Welch, 'what's he given you?'
'Only his love, to give to you. It was this way. He first asked me if I wasn't perfectly aware that Stapleton was out of bounds. "Sir," says I, "I've known it from childhood's earliest hour." "Ah," says he to me, "did Mr Merevale give you leave to go in this afternoon?" "No," says I, "I never consulted the gent you mention."'
'Well?'
'Then he ragged100 me for ten minutes, and finally told me I must go into extra the next two Saturdays.'
'I thought so.'
'Ah, but mark the sequel. When he had finished, I said that I was sorry I had mistaken the rules, but I had thought that a chap was allowed to go into Stapleton if he got leave from a master. "But you said that Mr Merevale did not give you leave," said he. "Friend of my youth," I replied courteously101, "you are perfectly correct. As always. Mr Merevale did not give me leave, but," I added suavely102, "Mr Dacre did." And I came away, chanting hymns103 of triumph in a mellow104 baritone, and leaving him in a dead faint on the sofa. And the Bargee, who was present during the conflict, swiftly and silently vanished away, his morale105 considerably shattered. And that, my gentle Welch,' concluded Charteris cheerfully, 'put me one up. So pass the biscuits, and let us rejoice if we never rejoice again.'
Chapter 3
The Easter term was nearing its end. Football, with the exception of the final House-match, which had still to come off, was over, and life was in consequence a trifle less exhilarating than it might have been. In some ways the last few weeks before the Easter holidays are quite pleasant. You can put on running shorts and a blazer and potter about the grounds, feeling strong and athletic, and delude106 yourself into the notion that you are training for the sports. Ten minutes at the broad jump, five with the weight, a few sprints108 on the track—it is all very amusing and harmless, but it is apt to become monotonous109 after a time. And if the weather is at all inclined to be chilly110, such an occupation becomes impossible.
Charteris found things particularly dull. He was a fair average runner, but there were others far better at every distance, so that he saw no use in mortifying111 the flesh with strict training. On the other hand, in view of the fact that the final House-match had yet to be played, and that Merevale's was one of the two teams that were going to play it, it behoved him to keep himself at least moderately fit. The genial112 muffin and the cheery crumpet were still things to be avoided. He thus found himself in a position where, apparently, the few things which it was possible for him to do were barred, and the net result was that he felt slightly dull.
To make matters worse, all the rest of his set were working full time at their various employments, and had no leisure for amusing him. Welch practised hundred-yard sprints daily, and imagined that it would be quite a treat for Charteris to be allowed to time him. So he gave him the stopwatch, saw him safely to the end of the track, and at a given signal dashed off in the approved American style. By the time he reached the tape, dutifully held by two sporting Merevalian juniors, Charteris's attention had generally been attracted elsewhere. 'What time?' Welch would pant. 'By Jove,' Charteris would observe blandly113, 'I forgot to look. About a minute and a quarter, I fancy.' At which Welch, who always had a notion that he had done it in ten and a fifth that time, at any rate, would dissemble his joy, and mildly suggest that somebody else should hold the watch. Then there was Jim Thomson, generally a perfect mine of elevating conversation. He was in for the mile and also the half, and refused to talk about anything except those distances, and the best methods for running them in the minimum of time. Charteris began to feel a blue melancholy114 stealing over him. The Babe, again. He might have helped to while away the long hours, but unfortunately the Babe had been taken very bad with a notion that he was going to win the 'cross-country run, and when, in addition to this, he was seized with a panic with regard to the prospects116 of the House team in the final, and began to throw out hints concerning strict training, Charteris regarded him as a person to be avoided. If he fled to the Babe for sympathy now, the Babe would be just as likely as not to suggest that he should come for a ten-mile spin with him, to get him into condition for the final Houser. The very thought of a ten-mile spin made Charteris feel faint. Lastly, there was Tony. But Tony's company was worse than none at all. He went about with his arm in a sling117, and declined to be comforted. But for his injury, he would by now have been training hard for the Aldershot Boxing Competition, and the fact that he was now definitely out of it had a very depressing effect upon him. He lounged moodily118 about the gymnasium, watching Menzies, who was to take his place, sparring with the instructor119, and refused consolation120. Altogether, Charteris found life a distinct bore.
He was reduced to such straits for amusement, that one Wednesday afternoon, finding himself with nothing else to do, he was working at a burlesque121 and remarkably122 scurrilous123 article on 'The Staff, by one who has suffered', which he was going to insert in The Glow Worm, an unofficial periodical which he had started for the amusement of the School and his own and his contributors' profit. He was just warming to his work, and beginning to enjoy himself, when the door opened without a preliminary knock. Charteris deftly124 slid a piece of blotting-paper over his MS., for Merevale occasionally entered a study in this manner. And though there was nothing about Merevale himself in the article, it would be better perhaps, thought Charteris, if he did not see it. But it was not Merevale. It was somebody far worse. The Babe.
The Babe was clothed as to his body in football clothes, and as to face, in a look of holy enthusiasm. Charteris knew what that look meant. It meant that the Babe was going to try and drag him out for a run.
'Go away, Babe,' he said, 'I'm busy.'
'Why on earth are you slacking in here on this ripping afternoon?'
'Slacking!' said Charteris. 'I like that. I'm doing berrain work, Babe. I'm writing an article on masters and their customs, which will cause a profound sensation in the Common Room. At least it would, if they ever saw it, but they won't. Or I hope they won't for their sake and mine. So run away, my precious Babe, and don't disturb your uncle when he's busy.'
'Rot,' said the Babe firmly, 'you haven't taken any exercise for a week.'
Charteris replied proudly that he had wound up his watch only last night. The Babe refused to accept the remark as relevant to the matter in hand.
'Look here, Alderman,' he said, sitting down on the table, and gazing sternly at his victim, 'it's all very well, you know, but the final comes on in a few days, and you know you aren't in any too good training.'
The Babe declined the offer.
'No, but I say,' he said plaintively126, 'I wish you'd treat it seriously. It's getting jolly serious, really. If Dacre's win that cup again this year, that'll make four years running.'
'Not so,' said Charteris, like the mariner127 of infinite-resource-and-sagacity; 'not so, but far otherwise. It'll only make three.'
'Well, three's bad enough.'
'True, oh king, three is quite bad enough.'
'Well, then, there you are. Now you see.'
Charteris looked puzzled.
'Would you mind explaining that remark?' he said. 'Slowly.'
But the Babe had got off the table, and was prowling round the room, opening cupboards and boxes.
'Where do you keep your footer things?'
'What do you want with my footer things, if you don't mind my asking?'
'I'm going to help you put them on, and then you're coming for a run.'
'Ah,' said Charteris.
'Yes. Just a gentle spin to keep you in training. Hullo, this looks like them.'
He plunged130 both hands into a box near the window and flung out a mass of football clothes. It reminded Charteris of a terrier digging at a rabbit-hole.
He protested.
'Don't, Babe. Treat 'em tenderly. You'll be spoiling the crease64 in those bags if you heave 'em about like that. I'm very particular about how I look on the football field. I was always taught to dress myself like a little gentleman, so to speak. Well, now you've seen them, put 'em away.'
'Put 'em on,' said the Babe firmly.
'You are a beast, Babe. I don't want to go for a run. I'm getting too old for violent exercise.'
'Buck up,' said the Babe. 'We mustn't chuck any chances away. Now that Tony can't play, we shall have to do all we know if we want to win.'
'I don't see what need there is to get nervous about it. Considering we've got three of the First three-quarter line, and the Second Fifteen back, we ought to do pretty well.'
'But look at Dacre's scrum. There's Prescott, to start with. He's worth any two of our men put together. Then they've got Carter, Smith, and Hemming131 out of the first, and Reeve-Jones out of the second. And their outsides aren't so very bad, if you come to think of it. Bannister's in the first, and the other three-quarters are all good. And they've got both the second halves. You'll have practically to look after both of them now that Tony's crocked. And Baddeley has come on a lot this term.'
'Babe,' said Charteris, 'you have reason. I will turn over a new leaf. I will be good. Give me my things and I'll come for a run. Only please don't let it be anything over twenty miles.'
'Good man,' said the gratified Babe. 'We won't go far, and will take it quite easy.'
'I tell you what,' said Charteris. 'Do you know a place called Worbury? I thought you wouldn't, probably. It's only a sort of hamlet, two cottages, three public-houses, and a duck-pond, and that sort of thing. I only know it because Welch and I ran there once last year. It's in the Badgwick direction, about three miles by road, mostly along the level. I vote we muffle132 up fairly well, blazers and sweaters and so on, run to Worbury, tea at one of the cottages, and back in time for lock-up. How does that strike you?'
'It sounds all right. How about tea though? Are you certain you can get it?'
'Rather. The Oldest Inhabitant is quite a pal of mine.'
Charteris's circle of acquaintances was a standing133 wonder to the Babe and other Merevalians. He seemed to know everybody in the county.
When once he was fairly started on any business, physical or mental, Charteris generally shaped well. It was the starting that he found the difficulty. Now that he was actually in motion, he was enjoying himself thoroughly. He wondered why on earth he had been so reluctant to come for this run. The knowledge that there were three miles to go, and that he was equal to them, made him feel a new man. He felt fit. And there is nothing like feeling fit for dispelling134 boredom135. He swung along with the Babe at a steady pace.
'There's the cottage,' he said, as they turned a bend of the road, and Worbury appeared a couple of hundred yards away. 'Let's sprint107.' They sprinted136, and arrived at the door of the cottage with scarcely a yard between them, much to the admiration137 of the Oldest Inhabitant, who was smoking a thoughtful pipe in his front garden. Mrs Oldest Inhabitant came out of the cottage at the sound of voices, and Charteris broached138 the subject of tea. The menu was sumptuous139 and varied140, and even the Babe, in spite of his devotion to strict training, could scarce forbear to smile happily at the mention of hot cakes.
During the mauvais quart d'heure before the meal, Charteris kept up an animated141 conversation with the Oldest Inhabitant, the Babe joining in from time to time when he could think of anything to say. Charteris appeared to be quite a friend of the family. He enquired after the Oldest Inhabitant's rheumatics. It was gratifying to find that they were distinctly better. How had Mrs O. I. been since his last visit? Prarper hearty142? Excellent. How was the O. I.'s nevvy?
At the mention of his nevvy the O. I. became discursive143. He told his audience everything that had happened in connection with the said nevvy for years back. After which he started to describe what he would probably do in the future. Amongst other things, there were going to be some sports at Rutton today week, and his nevvy was going to try and win the cup for what the Oldest Inhabitant vaguely144 described as 'a race'. He had won it last year. Yes, prarper good runner, his nevvy. Where was Rutton? the Babe wanted to know. About eight miles out of Stapleton, said Charteris, who was well up in local geography. You got there by train. It was the next station.
Mrs O. I. came out to say that tea was ready, and, being drawn into the conversation on the subject of the Rutton sports, produced a programme of the same, which her nevvy had sent them. From this it seemed that the nevvy's 'spot' event was the egg and spoon race. An asterisk145 against his name pointed146 him out as the last year's winner.
'Hullo,' said Charteris, 'I see there's a strangers' mile. I'm a demon147 at the mile when I'm roused. I think I shall go in for it.'
He handed the programme back and began his tea.
'You know, Babe,' he said, as they were going back that evening, 'I really think I shall go in for that race. It would be a most awful rag. It's the day before the House-match, so it'll just get me fit.'
'Don't be a fool,' said the Babe. 'There would be a fearful row about it if you were found out. You'd get extras for the rest of your life.'
'Well, the final Houser comes off on a Thursday, so it won't affect that.'
'Yes, but still—'
'I shall think about it,' said Charteris. 'You needn't go telling anyone.'
'If you'll take my advice, you'll drop it.'
'Your suggestion has been noted148, and will receive due attention,' said Charteris. 'Put on the pace a bit.'
Chapter 4
'I shall go, Babe,' said Charteris on the following night.
The Sixth Form had a slack day before them on the morrow, there being a temporary lull151 in the form-work which occurred about once a week, when there was no composition of any kind to be done. The Sixth did four compositions a week, two Greek and two Latin, and except for these did not bother themselves very much about overnight preparation. The Latin authors which the form were doing were Livy and Virgil, and when either of these were on the next day's programme, most of the Sixth considered that they were justified152 in taking a night off. They relied on their ability to translate both authors at sight and without previous acquaintance. The popular notion that Virgil is hard rarely appeals to a member of a public school. There are two ways of translating Virgil, the conscientious153 and the other. He prefers the other.
On this particular night, therefore, work was 'off'. Merevale was over at the Great Hall, taking preparation, and the Sixth-Form Merevalians had assembled in Charteris's study to talk about things in general. It was after a pause of some moments, that had followed upon a lively discussion of the House's prospects in the forthcoming final, that Charteris had spoken.
'I shall go, Babe,' said he.
'Go where?' asked Tony, from the depths of a deck-chair.
'Babe knows.'
The Babe turned to the company and explained.
'The lunatic's going in for the strangers' mile at some sports at Rutton next week. He'll get booked for a cert. He can't see that. I never saw such a man.'
'Rally round,' said Charteris, 'and reason with me. I'll listen. Tony, what do you think about it?'
Tony expressed his opinion tersely154, and Charteris thanked him. Welch, who had been reading, now awoke to the fact that a discussion was in progress, and asked for details. The Babe explained once more, and Welch heartily155 corroborated156 Tony's remarks. Charteris thanked him too.
'You aren't really going, are you?' asked Welch.
'Rather,' said Charteris.
'The Old Man won't give you leave.'
'Shan't worry the poor man with such trifles.'
'But it's miles out of bounds. Stapleton station is out of bounds to start with. It's against rules to go in a train, and Rutton's even more out of bounds than Stapleton.'
'And as there are sports there,' said Tony, 'the Old Man is certain to put Rutton specially157 out of bounds for that day. He always bars a St Austin's chap going to a place when there's anything going on there.'
'I don't care. What have I to do with the Old Man's petty prejudices? Now, let me get at my time-table. Here we are. Now then.'
'Don't be a fool,' said Tony,
'Certainly not. Look here, there's a train starts from Stapleton at three. I can catch that all right. Gets to Rutton at three-twenty. Sports begin at three-fifteen. At least, they are supposed to. Over before five, I should think. At least, my race will be, though I must stop to see the Oldest Inhabitant's nevvy win the egg and spoon canter. But that ought to come on before the strangers' race. Train back at a quarter past five. Arrives at a quarter to six. Lock up six-fifteen. That gives me half an hour to get here from Stapleton. What more do you want? I shall do it easily, and ... the odds158 against my being booked are about twenty-five to one. At which price if any gent present cares to deposit his money, I am willing to take him. Now I'll treat you to a tune159, if you're good.'
He went to the cupboard and produced his gramophone. Charteris's musical instruments had at one time been strictly160 suppressed by the authorities, and, in consequence, he had laid in a considerable stock of them. At last, when he discovered that there was no rule against the use of musical instruments in the House, Merevale had yielded. The stipulation161 that Charteris should play only before prep. was rigidly162 observed, except when Merevale was over at the Hall, and the Sixth had no work. On such occasions Charteris felt justified in breaking through the rule. He had a gramophone, a banjo, a penny whistle, and a mouth organ. The banjo, which he played really well, was the most in request, but the gramophone was also popular.
'Turn on "Whistling Rufus",' observed Thomson.
'I always weep when I hear this,' said Tony.
'It is beautiful, isn't it?' said Charteris.
I'll be your sweetheart, if you—will be—mine,
All my life, I'll be your valentine.
Bluebells I've gathered—grrhhrh.
The needle of the gramophone, after the manner of its kind, slipped raspingly over the surface of the wax, and the rest of the ballad164 was lost.
'That,' said Charteris, 'is how I feel with regard to the Old Man. I'd be his sweetheart, if he'd be mine. But he makes no advances, and the stain on my scutcheon is not yet wiped out. I must say I haven't tried gathering165 bluebells for him yet, nor have I offered my services as a perpetual valentine, but I've been very kind to him in other ways.'
'Is he still down on you?' asked the Babe.
'He hasn't done much lately. We're in a state of truce166 at present. Did I tell you how I scored about Stapleton?'
'You've only told us about a hundred times,' said the Babe brutally167. 'I tell you what, though, he'll score off you if he finds you going to Rutton.'
'Let's hope he won't.'
'He won't,' said Welch suddenly.
'Why?'
'Because you won't go. I'll bet you anything you like that you won't go.'
That settled Charteris. It was the sort of remark that always acted on him like a tonic168. He had been intending to go all the time, but it was this speech of Welch's that definitely clinched169 the matter. One of his mottoes for everyday use was 'Let not thyself be scored off by Welch.'
'That's all right,' he said. 'Of course I shall go. What's the next item you'd like on this machine?'
The day of the sports arrived, and the Babe, meeting Charteris at Merevale's gate, made a last attempt to head him off from his purpose.
'How are you going to take your things?' he asked. 'You can't carry a bag. The first beak170 you met would ask questions.'
If he had hoped that this would be a crushing argument, he was disappointed.
Charteris patted a bloated coat pocket.
'Bags,' he said laconically171. 'Vest,' he added, doing the same to his other pocket. 'Shoes,' he concluded, 'you will observe I am carrying in a handy brown paper parcel, and if anybody wants to know what's in it, I shall tell them it's acid drops. Sure you won't come, too?'
'Quite, thanks.'
'All right. So long then. Be good while I'm gone.'
And he passed on down the road that led to Stapleton.
The Rutton Recreation Ground presented, as the Stapleton Herald172 justly remarked in its next week's issue, 'a gay and animated appearance'. There was a larger crowd than Charteris had expected. He made his way through them, resisting without difficulty the entreaties173 of a hoarse174 gentleman in a check suit to have three to two on 'Enery something for the hundred yards, and came at last to the dressing-tent.
At this point it occurred to him that it would be judicious175 to find out when his race was to start. It was rather a chilly day, and the less time he spent in the undress uniform of shorts the better. He bought a correct card for twopence, and scanned it. The strangers' mile was down for four-fifty. There was no need to change for an hour yet. He wished the authorities could have managed to date the event earlier.
Four-fifty was running it rather fine. The race would be over by about five to five, and it was a walk of some ten minutes to the station, less if he hurried. That would give him ten minutes for recovering from the effects of the race, and changing back into his ordinary clothes again. It would be quick work. But, having come so far, he was not inclined to go back without running in the race. He would never be able to hold his head up again if he did that. He left the dressing-tent, and started on a tour of the field.
The scene was quite different from anything he had ever witnessed before in the way of sports. The sports at St Austin's were decorous to a degree. These leaned more to the rollickingly convivial176. It was like an ordinary race-meeting, except that men were running instead of horses. Rutton was a quiet little place for the majority of the year, but it woke up on this day, and was evidently out to enjoy itself. The Rural Hooligan was a good deal in evidence, and though he was comparatively quiet just at present, the frequency with which he visited the various refreshment177 stalls that dotted the ground gave promise of livelier times in the future. Charteris felt that the afternoon would not be dull.
The hour soon passed, and Charteris, having first seen the Oldest Inhabitant's nevvy romp47 home in the egg and spoon event, took himself off to the dressing-tent, and began to get into his running clothes. The bell for his race was just ringing when he left the tent. He trotted over to the starting place.
Apparently there was not a very large 'field'. Two weedy-looking youths of about Charteris's age, dressed in blushing pink, put in an appearance, and a very tall, thin man came up almost immediately afterwards. Charteris had just removed his coat, and was about to get to his place on the line, when another competitor arrived, and, to judge by the applause that greeted his appearance, he was evidently a favourite in the locality. It was with shock that Charteris recognized his old acquaintance, the Bargees' secretary.
He was clad in running clothes of a bright orange and a smile of conscious superiority, and when somebody in the crowd called out 'Go it, Jarge!' he accepted the tribute as his due, and waved a condescending178 hand in the speaker's direction.
Some moments elapsed before he recognized Charteris, and the latter had time to decide upon his line of action. If he attempted concealment179 in any way, the man would recognize that on this occasion, at any rate, he had, to use an adequate if unclassical expression, got the bulge180, and then there would be trouble. By brazening things out, however, there was just a chance that he might make him imagine that there was more in the matter than met the eye, and that, in some mysterious way, he had actually obtained leave to visit Rutton that day. After all, the man didn't know very much about School rules, and the recollection of the recent fiasco in which he had taken part would make him think twice about playing the amateur policeman again, especially in connection with Charteris.
The man replied by glaring in a simple and unaffected manner.
'Looked up the Headmaster lately?' asked Charteris.
'What are you doing here?'
'I'm going to run. Hope you don't mind.'
'You're out of bounds.'
'That's what you said before. You'd better enquire129 a bit before you make rash statements. Otherwise, there's no knowing what may happen. Perhaps Mr Dacre has given me leave.'
The man said something objurgatory under his breath, but forbore to continue the discussion. He was wondering, as Charteris had expected that he would, whether the latter had really got leave or not. It was a difficult problem.
Whether such a result was due to his mental struggles, or whether it was simply to be attributed to his poor running, is open to question, but the fact remains183 that the secretary of the Old Crockfordians did not shine in the strangers' mile. He came in last but one, vanquishing184 the pink sportsman by a foot. Charteris, after a hot finish, was beaten on the tape by one of the weedy youths, who exhibited astounding185 sprinting186 powers in the last two hundred yards, overhauling187 Charteris, who had led all the time, in fine style, and scoring what the Stapleton Herald described as a 'highly popular victory'.
As soon as he had recovered his normal stock of wind—which was not immediately—it was borne in upon Charteris that if he wanted to catch the five-fifteen back to Stapleton, he had better be beginning to change. He went to the dressing-tent, and on examining his watch was horrified188 to find that he had just ten minutes in which to do everything, and the walk to the station, he reflected, was a long five minutes. He literally189 hurled190 himself into his clothes, and, disregarding the Bargee, who had entered the tent and seemed to wish to continue the discussion at the point where they had left off, shot off towards the gate nearest the station. He had exactly four minutes and twenty-five seconds in which to complete the journey, and he had just run a mile.
Chapter 5
Fortunately the road was mainly level. On the other hand, he was hampered191 by an overcoat. After the first hundred yards he took this off, and carried it in an unwieldy parcel. This, he found, answered admirably. Running became easier. He had worked the stiffness out of his legs by this time, and was going well. Three hundred yards from the station it was anybody's race. The exact position of the other competitor, the train, could not be defined. It was at any rate not yet within earshot, which meant that it still had at least a quarter of a mile to go. Charteris considered that he had earned a rest. He slowed down to a walk, but after proceeding at this pace for a few yards, thought that he heard a distant whistle, and dashed on again. Suddenly a raucous192 bellow193 of laughter greeted his ears from a spot in front of him, hidden from his sight by a bend in the road.
'Somebody slightly tight,' thought Charteris, rapidly diagnosing the case. 'By Jove, if he comes rotting about with me I'll kill him.' Having to do anything in a desperate hurry always made Charteris's temper slightly villainous. He turned the corner at a sharp trot81, and came upon two youths who seemed to be engaged in the harmless occupation of trying to ride a bicycle. They were of the type which he held in especial aversion, the Rural Hooligan type, and one at least of the two had evidently been present at a recent circulation of the festive194 bowl. He was wheeling the bicycle about the road in an aimless manner, and looked as if he wondered what was the matter with it that it would not stay in the same place for two consecutive195 seconds. The other youth was apparently of the 'Charles-his-friend' variety, content to look on and applaud, and generally to play chorus to his companion's 'lead'. He was standing at the side of the road, smiling broadly in a way that argued feebleness of mind. Charteris was not quite sure which of the two types he loathed196 the more. He was inclined to call it a tie.
However, there seemed to be nothing particularly lawless in what they were doing now. If they were content to let him pass without hindrance197, he, for his part, was content generously to overlook the insult they offered him in daring to exist, and to maintain a state of truce. But, as he drew nearer, he saw that there was more in this business than the casual spectator might at first have supposed. A second and keener inspection198 of the reptiles199 revealed fresh phenomena. In the first place, the bicycle which Hooligan number one was playing with was a lady's bicycle, and a small one at that. Now, up to the age of fourteen and the weight of ten stone, a beginner at cycling often finds it more convenient to learn to ride on a lady's machine than on a gentleman's. The former offers greater facilities for rapid dismounting, a quality not to be despised in the earlier stages of initiation200. But, though this is undoubtedly the case, and though Charteris knew that it was so, yet he felt instinctively201 that there was something wrong here. Hooligans of twenty years and twelve stone do not learn to ride on small ladies' machines, or, if they do, it is probably without the permission of the small lady who owns the same. Valuable as his time was, Charteris felt that it behoved him to spend a thoughtful minute or so examining into this affair. He slowed down once again to a walk, and, as he did so, his eye fell upon the character in the drama whose absence had puzzled him, the owner of the bicycle. And from that moment he felt that life would be a hollow mockery if he failed to fall upon those revellers and slay202 them. She stood by the hedge on the right, a forlorn little figure in grey, and she gazed sadly and helplessly at the manoeuvres that were going on in the middle of the road. Her age Charteris put down at a venture at twelve—a correct guess. Her state of mind he also conjectured203. She was letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would', like the late Macbeth, the cat i' the adage204, and numerous other celebrities205. She evidently had plenty of remarks to make on the subject in hand, but refrained from motives206 of prudence208.
Charteris had no such scruples209. The feeling of fatigue210 that had been upon him had vanished, and his temper, which had been growing steadily worse for some twenty minutes, now boiled over gleefully at the prospect115 of something solid to work itself off upon. Even without a cause Charteris detested211 the Rural Hooligan. Now that a real, copper-bottomed motive207 for this dislike had been supplied to him, he felt himself capable of dealing212 with a whole regiment213 of the breed. The criminal with the bicycle had just let it fall with a crash to the ground when Charteris went for him low, in the style which the Babe always insisted on seeing in members of the First Fifteen on the football field, and hove him without comment into a damp ditch. 'Charles his friend' uttered a shout of disapproval214 and rushed into the fray215. Charteris gave him the straight left, of the type to which the great John Jackson is reported to have owed so much in the days of the old Prize Ring, and Charles, taking it between the eyes, stopped in a discouraged and discontented manner, and began to rub the place. Whereupon Charteris dashed in, and, to use an expression suitable to the deed, 'swung his right at the mark'. The 'mark', it may be explained for the benefit of the non-pugilistic, is that portion of the anatomy216 which lies hid behind the third button of the human waistcoat. It covers—in a most inadequate217 way—the wind, and even a gentle tap in the locality is apt to produce a fleeting218 sense of discomfort. A genuine flush hit on the spot, shrewdly administered by a muscular arm with the weight of the body behind it, causes the passive agent in the transaction to wish fervently219, as far as he is at the moment physically220 capable of wishing anything, that he had never been born. 'Charles his friend' collapsed221 like an empty sack, and Charteris, getting a grip of the outlying portions of his costume, dragged him to the ditch and rolled him in on top of his friend, who had just recovered sufficiently222 to be thinking about getting out again. The pair of them lay there in a tangled223 heap. Charteris picked up the bicycle and gave it a cursory224 examination. The enamel225 was a good deal scratched, but no material damage had been done. He wheeled it across to its owner.
'It isn't much hurt,' he said, as they walked on slowly together. 'Bit scratched, that's all.'
'Thanks awfully,' said the small lady.
'Oh, not at all,' replied Charteris. 'I enjoyed it.' (He felt he had said the right thing there. Your real hero always 'enjoys it'.) 'I'm sorry those bargees frightened you.'
'They did rather. But'—she added triumphantly226 after a pause—'I didn't cry.'
'Rather not,' said Charteris. 'You were awfully plucky227. I noticed. But hadn't you better ride on? Which way were you going?'
'I wanted to get to Stapleton.'
'Oh. That's simple enough. You've merely got to go straight on down this road, as straight as ever you can go. But, look here, you know, you shouldn't be out alone like this. It isn't safe. Why did they let you?'
'They shouldn't have sent you out alone,' said Charteris, 'why did they?'
'They—they didn't. I came.'
There was a world of meaning in the phrase. Charteris felt that he was in the same case. They had not let him. He had come. Here was a kindred spirit, another revolutionary soul, scorning the fetters229 of convention and the so-called authority of self-constituted rules, aha! Bureaucrats230!
'Shake hands,' he said, 'I'm in just the same way.'
They shook hands gravely.
'You know,' said the lady, 'I'm awfully sorry I did it now. It was very naughty.'
'I'm not sorry yet,' said Charteris, 'I'm rather glad than otherwise. But I expect I shall be sorry before long.'
'Will you be sent to bed?'
'I don't think so.'
'Will you have to learn beastly poetry?'
'Probably not.'
She looked at him curiously231, as if to enquire, 'then if you won't have to learn poetry and you won't get sent to bed, what on earth is there for you to worry about?'
She would probably have gone on to investigate the problem further, but at that moment there came the sound of a whistle. Then another, closer this time. Then a faint rumbling232, which increased in volume steadily. Charteris looked back. The railway line ran by the side of the road. He could see the smoke of a train through the trees. It was quite close now, and coming closer every minute, and he was still quite a hundred and fifty yards from the station gates.
'I say,' he cried. 'Great Scott, here comes my train. I must rush. Good-bye. You keep straight on.'
His legs had had time to grow stiff again. For the first few strides running was painful. But his joints233 soon adapted themselves to the strain, and in ten seconds he was sprinting as fast as he had ever sprinted off the running-track. When he had travelled a quarter of the distance the small cyclist overtook him.
'Be quick,' she said, 'it's just in sight.'
Charteris quickened his stride, and, paced by the bicycle, spun234 along in fine style. Forty yards from the station the train passed him. He saw it roll into the station. There were still twenty yards to go, exclusive of the station's steps, and he was already running as fast as it lay in him to run. Now there were only ten. Now five. And at last, with a hurried farewell to his companion, he bounded up the steps and on to the platform. At the end of the platform the line took a sharp curve to the left. Round that curve the tail end of the guard's van was just disappearing.
'Missed it, sir,' said the solitary porter, who managed things at Rutton, cheerfully. He spoke as if he was congratulating Charteris on having done something remarkably clever.
'When's the next?' panted Charteris.
For a moment Charteris felt quite ill. No train till eight-thirty! Then was he indeed lost. But it couldn't be true. There must be some sort of a train between now and then.
'Are you certain?' he said. 'Surely there's a train before that?'
'Why, yes, sir,' said the porter gleefully, 'but they be all exprusses. Eight-thirty be the only 'un what starps at Rootton.'
'Thanks,' said Charteris with marked gloom, 'I don't think that'll be
much good to me. My aunt, what a hole I'm in.'
The porter made a sympathetic and interrogative noise at the back of
felt unequal to conversation. There are moments when one wants to be
alone. He went down the steps again. When he got out into the road, his
small cycling friend had vanished. Charteris was conscious of a feeling
of envy towards her. She was doing the journey comfortably on a
bicycle. He would have to walk it. Walk it! He didn't believe he could.
The strangers' mile, followed by the Homeric combat with the two
Hooligans and that ghastly sprint to wind up with, had left him
miles to Stapleton, if it was a yard, and another mile from Stapleton
in the direction of Stapleton. But fate, so long hostile to him, at
of hope shot through him at the sound. There was the prospect of a
lift. He stopped, and waited for the dog-cart—it sounded like a
wave his arms like a semaphore. The man in the dog-cart was Dr Adamson.
'Hullo, Charteris,' said the Doctor, pulling up his horse, 'what are you doing here?'
'Come along. Plenty of room.'
Charteris climbed up, and sank on to the cushioned seat with a sigh of pleasure. What glorious comfort. He had never enjoyed anything more in his life.
'I'm nearly dead,' he said, as the dog-cart went on again. 'This is how it all happened. You see, it was this way—'
Chapter 6
By special request the Doctor dropped Charteris within a hundred yards of Merevale's door.
'Good-night,' he said. 'I don't suppose you will value my advice at all, but you may have it for what it is worth. I recommend you stop this sort of game. Next time something will happen.'
'By Jove, yes,' said Charteris, climbing painfully down from the dog-cart, 'I'll take that advice. I'm a reformed character from this day onwards. This sort of thing isn't good enough. Hullo, there's the bell for lock-up. Good-night, Doctor, and thanks most awfully for the lift. It was frightfully kind of you.'
'Don't mention it,' said Dr Adamson, 'it is always a privilege to be in your company. When are you coming to tea with me again?'
'Whenever you'll have me. I must get leave, though, this time.'
'Yes. By the way, how's Graham? It is Graham, isn't it? The fellow who broke his collar-bone?'
'Oh, he's getting on splendidly. Still in a sling, but it's almost well again now. But I must be off. Good-night.'
'Good-night. Come to tea next Monday.'
'Right,' said Charteris; 'thanks awfully.'
He hobbled in at Merevale's gate, and went up to his study. The Babe was in there talking to Welch.
'Hullo,' said the Babe, 'here's Charteris.'
'What's left of him,' said Charteris.
'How did it go off?'
'Don't, please.'
'Did you win?' asked Welch.
'No. Second. By a yard. Oh, Lord, I am dead.'
'Hot race?'
'Rather. It wasn't that, though. I had to sprint all the way to the station, and missed my train by ten seconds at the end of it all.'
'Then how did you get here?'
'That was the one stroke of luck I've had this afternoon. I started to walk back, and after I'd gone about a quarter of a mile, Adamson caught me up in his dog-cart. I suggested that it would be a Christian245 act on his part to give me a lift, and he did. I shall remember Adamson in my will.'
'Tell us what happened.'
'I'll tell thee everything I can,' said Charteris. 'There's little to relate. I saw an aged11, aged man a-sitting on a gate. Where do you want me to begin?'
'At the beginning. Don't rot.'
'I was born,' began Charteris, 'of poor but honest parents, who sent me to school at an early age in order that I might acquire a grasp of the Greek and Latin languages, now obsolete246. I—'
'How did you lose?' enquired the Babe.
'The other man beat me. If he hadn't, I should have won hands down. Oh, I say, guess who I met at Rutton.'
'Not a beak?'
'No. Almost as bad, though. The Bargee man who paced me from Stapleton. Man who crocked Tony.'
'Great Scott!' cried the Babe. 'Did he recognize you?'
'Rather. We had a very pleasant conversation.'
'If he reports you,' began the Babe.
'Who's that?'
Charteris looked up. Tony Graham had entered the study.
'Hullo, Tony! Adamson told me to remember him to you.'
'So you've got back?'
Charteris confirmed the hasty guess.
'But what are you talking about, Babe?' said Tony. 'Who's going to be reported, and who's going to report?'
'If the man,' he said, 'reports Charteris, he may get run in tomorrow, and then we shall have both our halves away against Dacre's. Charteris, you are a fool to go rotting about out of bounds like this.'
'Nay248, dry the starting tear,' said Charteris cheerfully. 'In the first place, I shouldn't get kept in on a Thursday anyhow. I should be shoved into extra on Saturday. Also, I shrewdly conveyed to the Bargee the impression that I was at Rutton by special permission.'
'He's bound to know that that can't be true,' said Tony.
'Well, I told him to think it over. You see, he got so badly left last time he tried to compass my downfall, that I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he let the job alone this journey.'
'Let's hope so,' said the Babe gloomily.
'You buck up and keep looking on the bright side. It'll be all right. You see if it won't. If there's any running in to be done, I shall do it. I shall be frightfully fit tomorrow after all this dashing about today. I haven't an ounce of superfluous250 flesh on me. I'm a fine, strapping251 specimen252 of sturdy young English manhood. And I'm going to play a very selfish game tomorrow, Babe.'
'Oh, my dear chap, you mustn't.' The Babe's face wore an expression of horror. The success of the House-team in the final was very near to his heart. He could not understand anyone jesting on the subject. Charteris respected his anguish253, and relieved it speedily.
'I was only ragging,' he said. 'Considering that our three-quarter line is our one strong point, I'm not likely to keep the ball from it, if I get a chance of getting it out. Make your mind easy, Babe.'
The final House-match was always a warmish game. The rivalry254 between the various Houses was great, and the football cup especially was fought for with immense keenness. Also, the match was the last fixture of the season, and there was a certain feeling in the teams that if they did happen to disable a man or two, it would not matter much. The injured sportsman would not be needed for School-match purposes for another six months. As a result of which philosophical255 reflection, the tackling was ruled slightly energetic, and the handing-off was done with vigour256.
This year, to add a sort of finishing touch, there was just a little ill-feeling between Dacre's and Merevale's. The cause of it was the Babe. Until the beginning of the term he had been a day boy. Then the news began to circulate that he was going to become a boarder, either at Dacre's or at Merevale's. He chose the latter, and Dacre's felt slightly aggrieved257. Some of the less sportsmanlike members of the House had proposed that a protest should be made against his being allowed to play, but, fortunately for the credit of Dacre's, Prescott, the captain of the House Fifteen, had put his foot down with an emphatic258 bang at the suggestion. As he sagely259 pointed out, there were some things which were bad form, and this was one of them. If the team wanted to express their disapproval, said he, let them do it on the field by tackling their very hardest. He personally was going to do his best, and he advised them to do the same.
The rumour260 of this bad blood had got about the School in some mysterious manner, and when Swift, Merevale's only First Fifteen forward, kicked off up the hill, a large crowd was lining261 the ropes. It was evident from the outset that it would be a good game.
Dacre's were the better side—as a team. They had no really weak spot. But Merevale's extraordinarily262 strong three-quarter line somewhat made up for an inferior scrum. And the fact that the Babe was in the centre was worth much.
At first Dacre's pressed. Their pack was unusually heavy for a House-team, and they made full use of it. They took the ball down the field in short rushes till they were in Merevale's twenty-five. Then they began to heel, and, if things had been more or less exciting for the Merevalians before, they became doubly so now. The ground was dry, and so was the ball, and the game consequently waxed fast. Time after time the ball went along Dacre's three-quarter line, only to end by finding itself hurled, with the wing who was carrying it, into touch. Occasionally the centres, instead of feeding their wings, would try to dodge15 through themselves. And that was where the Babe came in. He was admittedly the best tackler in the School, but on this occasion he excelled himself. His man never had a chance of getting past. At last a lofty kick into touch over the heads of the spectators gave the players a few seconds' rest.
The Babe went up to Charteris.
'In our own twenty-five?' said Charteris.
'Wherever we are. I believe it will come off all right. Anyway, we'll try it. Tell the forwards.'
For forwards playing against a pack much heavier than themselves, it is easier to talk about letting the ball out than to do it. The first half dozen times that Merevale's scrum tried to heel they were shoved off their feet, and it was on the enemy's side that the ball went out. But the seventh attempt succeeded. Out it came, cleanly and speedily. Daintree, who was playing instead of Tony, switched it across to Charteris. Charteris dodged the half who was marking him, and ran. Heeling and passing in one's own twenty-five is like smoking—an excellent practice if indulged in in moderation. On this occasion it answered perfectly. Charteris ran to the half-way line, and handed the ball on to the Babe. The Babe was tackled from behind, and passed to Thomson. Thomson dodged his man, and passed to Welch on the wing. Welch was the fastest sprinter264 in the School. It was a pleasure—if you did not happen to be one of the opposing side—to see him race down the touch-line. He was off like an arrow. Dacre's back made a futile265 attempt to get at him. Welch could have given the back fifteen yards in a hundred. He ran round him, and, amidst terrific applause from the Merevale's-supporting section of the audience, scored between the posts. The Babe took the kick and converted without difficulty. Five minutes afterwards the whistle blew for half-time.
The remainder of the game does not call for detailed266 description. Dacre's pressed nearly the whole of the last half hour, but twice more the ball came out and went down Merevale's three-quarter line. Once it was the Babe who scored with a run from his own goal-line, and once Charteris, who got in from half-way, dodging267 through the whole team. The last ten minutes of the game was marked by a slight excess of energy on both sides. Dacre's forwards were in a decidedly bad temper, and fought like tigers to break through, and Merevale's played up to them with spirit. The Babe seemed continually to be precipitating268 himself at the feet of rushing forwards, and Charteris felt as if at least a dozen bones were broken in various portions of his anatomy. The game ended on Merevale's line, but they had won the match and the cup by two goals and a try to nothing.
Charteris limped off the field, cheerful but damaged. He ached all over, and there was a large bruise269 on his left cheek-bone. He and Babe were going to the House, when they were aware that the Headmaster was beckoning270 to them.
'Well, MacArthur, and what was the result of the match?'
'You have hurt your cheek, Charteris?'
'Yes, sir.'
'How did you do that?'
'I got a kick, sir, in one of the rushes.'
'Ah. I should bathe it, Charteris. Bathe it well. I hope it will not be very painful. Bathe it well in warm water.'
He walked on.
'You know,' said Charteris to the Babe, as they went into the House, 'the Old Man isn't such a bad sort after all. He has his points, don't you think?'
The Babe said that he did.
'I'm going to reform, you know,' continued Charteris confidentially271.
'It's about time,' said the Babe. 'You can have the bath first if you like. Only buck up.'
Charteris boiled himself for ten minutes, and then dragged his weary limbs to his study. It was while he was sitting in a deck-chair eating mixed biscuits, and wondering if he would ever be able to summon up sufficient energy to put on garments of civilization, that somebody knocked at the door.
'Yes,' shouted Charteris. 'What is it? Don't come in. I'm changing.'
'The Head told me to tell you that he wanted to see you at the School House as soon as you can go.'
'All right,' shouted Charteris. 'Thanks.'
'Now what,' he continued to himself, 'does the Old Man want to see me for? Perhaps he wants to make certain that I've bathed my cheek in warm water. Anyhow, I suppose I must go.'
A quarter of an hour later he presented himself at the Headmagisterial door. The sedate273 Parker, the Head's butler, who always filled Charteris with a desire to dig him hard in the ribs just to see what would happen, ushered274 him into the study.
The Headmaster was reading by the light of a lamp when Charteris came in. He laid down his book, and motioned him to a seat; after which there was an awkward pause.
'I have just received,' began the Head at last, 'a most unpleasant communication. Most unpleasant. From whom it comes I do not know. It is, in fact—er—anonymous. I am sorry that I ever read it.'
He stopped. Charteris made no comment. He guessed what was coming. He, too, was sorry that the Head had ever read the letter.
'The writer says that he saw you, that he actually spoke to you, at the athletic sports at Rutton yesterday. I have called you in to tell me if that is true.' The Head fastened an accusing eye on his companion.
'It is quite true, sir,' said Charteris steadily.
'What!' said the Head sharply. 'You were at Rutton?'
'Yes, sir.'
'You were perfectly aware, I suppose, that you were breaking the School rules by going there, Charteris?' enquired the Head in a cold voice.
'Yes, sir.' There was another pause.
'This is very serious,' began the Head. 'I cannot overlook this. I—'
There was a slight scuffle of feet in the passage outside. The door flew open vigorously, and a young lady entered. It was, as Charteris recognized in a minute, his acquaintance of the afternoon, the young lady of the bicycle.
'Uncle,' she said, 'have you seen my book anywhere?'
'Hullo!' she broke off as her eye fell on Charteris.
'Hullo!' said Charteris, affably, not to be outdone in the courtesies.
'Did you catch your train?'
'No. Missed it.'
'Hullo! what's the matter with your cheek?'
'I got a kick on it.'
'Oh, does it hurt?'
'Not much, thanks.'
'Dorothy, you must not come here now. I am busy. And how, may I ask, do you and Charteris come to be acquainted?'
The Head looked puzzled.
'Him. The chap, you know.'
It is greatly to the Head's credit that he grasped the meaning of these words. Long study of the classics had quickened his faculty276 for seeing sense in passages where there was none. The situation dawned upon him.
'Do you mean to tell me, Dorothy, that it was Charteris who came to your assistance yesterday?'
Dorothy nodded energetically.
'He gave the men beans,' she said. 'He did, really,' she went on, regardless of the Head's look of horror. 'He used right and left with considerable effect.'
Dorothy's brother, a keen follower277 of the Ring, had been good enough some days before to read her out an extract from an account in The Sportsman of a match at the National Sporting Club, and the account had been much to her liking278. She regarded it as a masterpiece of English composition.
'Dorothy,' said the Headmaster, 'run away to bed.' A suggestion which she treated with scorn, it wanting a clear two hours to her legal bedtime. 'I must speak to your mother about your deplorable habit of using slang. Dear me, I must certainly speak to her.'
The Head was silent for a few minutes after she had gone; then he turned to Charteris again.
'In consideration of this, Charteris, I shall—er—mitigate slightly the punishment I had intended to give you.'
Charteris murmured his gratification.
'But,' continued the Head sternly, 'I cannot overlook the offence. I have my duty to consider. You will therefore write me—er—ten lines of Virgil by tomorrow evening, Charteris.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Yes, sir.'
'And, Charteris—I am speaking now—er—unofficially, not as a headmaster, you understand—if in future you would cease to break School rules simply as a matter of principle, for that, I fancy, is what it amounts to, I—er—well, I think we should get on better together. And that is, on my part at least, a consummation—er—devoutly to be wished. Good-night, Charteris.'
'Good-night, sir.'
The Head extended a large hand. Charteris took it, and his departure.
The Headmaster opened his book again, and turned over a new leaf. Charteris at the same moment, walking slowly in the direction of Merevale's, was resolving for the future to do the very same thing. And he did.
点击收听单词发音
1 referee | |
n.裁判员.仲裁人,代表人,鉴定人 | |
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2 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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3 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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4 subsided | |
v.(土地)下陷(因在地下采矿)( subside的过去式和过去分词 );减弱;下降至较低或正常水平;一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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5 fixture | |
n.固定设备;预定日期;比赛时间;定期存款 | |
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6 transpired | |
(事实,秘密等)被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 ); 泄露; 显露; 发生 | |
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7 leopard | |
n.豹 | |
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8 bout | |
n.侵袭,发作;一次(阵,回);拳击等比赛 | |
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9 pungency | |
n.(气味等的)刺激性;辣;(言语等的)辛辣;尖刻 | |
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10 slate | |
n.板岩,石板,石片,石板色,候选人名单;adj.暗蓝灰色的,含板岩的;vt.用石板覆盖,痛打,提名,预订 | |
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11 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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12 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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13 alluded | |
提及,暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14 dodged | |
v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 );回避 | |
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15 dodge | |
v.闪开,躲开,避开;n.妙计,诡计 | |
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16 ass | |
n.驴;傻瓜,蠢笨的人 | |
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17 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
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18 warrior | |
n.勇士,武士,斗士 | |
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19 wring | |
n.扭绞;v.拧,绞出,扭 | |
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20 neatly | |
adv.整洁地,干净地,灵巧地,熟练地 | |
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21 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
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22 spoke | |
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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23 apropos | |
adv.恰好地;adj.恰当的;关于 | |
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24 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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25 brittle | |
adj.易碎的;脆弱的;冷淡的;(声音)尖利的 | |
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26 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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27 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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28 waylay | |
v.埋伏,伏击 | |
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29 buckled | |
a. 有带扣的 | |
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30 buck | |
n.雄鹿,雄兔;v.马离地跳跃 | |
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31 bodyguard | |
n.护卫,保镖 | |
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32 outrage | |
n.暴行,侮辱,愤怒;vt.凌辱,激怒 | |
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33 strenuously | |
adv.奋发地,费力地 | |
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34 awfully | |
adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
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35 treacle | |
n.糖蜜 | |
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36 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
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37 guardian | |
n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
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38 blot | |
vt.弄脏(用吸墨纸)吸干;n.污点,污渍 | |
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39 corps | |
n.(通信等兵种的)部队;(同类作的)一组 | |
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40 shrine | |
n.圣地,神龛,庙;v.将...置于神龛内,把...奉为神圣 | |
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41 suavity | |
n.温和;殷勤 | |
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42 dribble | |
v.点滴留下,流口水;n.口水 | |
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43 cannoned | |
vi.与…猛撞(cannon的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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44 disciple | |
n.信徒,门徒,追随者 | |
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45 heinous | |
adj.可憎的,十恶不赦的 | |
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46 impromptu | |
adj.即席的,即兴的;adv.即兴的(地),无准备的(地) | |
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47 romp | |
n.欢闹;v.嬉闹玩笑 | |
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48 premature | |
adj.比预期时间早的;不成熟的,仓促的 | |
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49 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
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50 lucid | |
adj.明白易懂的,清晰的,头脑清楚的 | |
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51 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
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52 giggled | |
v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53 rankled | |
v.(使)痛苦不已,(使)怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54 rankle | |
v.(怨恨,失望等)难以释怀 | |
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55 buffoon | |
n.演出时的丑角 | |
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56 epithet | |
n.(用于褒贬人物等的)表述形容词,修饰语 | |
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57 penetrating | |
adj.(声音)响亮的,尖锐的adj.(气味)刺激的adj.(思想)敏锐的,有洞察力的 | |
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58 discomfort | |
n.不舒服,不安,难过,困难,不方便 | |
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59 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
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60 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
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61 injustice | |
n.非正义,不公正,不公平,侵犯(别人的)权利 | |
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62 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
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63 oar | |
n.桨,橹,划手;v.划行 | |
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64 crease | |
n.折缝,褶痕,皱褶;v.(使)起皱 | |
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65 athletic | |
adj.擅长运动的,强健的;活跃的,体格健壮的 | |
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66 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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67 prater | |
多嘴的人,空谈者 | |
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68 consignment | |
n.寄售;发货;委托;交运货物 | |
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69 pal | |
n.朋友,伙伴,同志;vi.结为友 | |
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70 lured | |
吸引,引诱(lure的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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71 juvenile | |
n.青少年,少年读物;adj.青少年的,幼稚的 | |
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72 nil | |
n.无,全无,零 | |
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73 weird | |
adj.古怪的,离奇的;怪诞的,神秘而可怕的 | |
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74 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
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75 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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76 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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77 odyssey | |
n.长途冒险旅行;一连串的冒险 | |
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78 succinct | |
adj.简明的,简洁的 | |
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79 trophies | |
n.(为竞赛获胜者颁发的)奖品( trophy的名词复数 );奖杯;(尤指狩猎或战争中获得的)纪念品;(用于比赛或赛跑名称)奖 | |
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80 nominally | |
在名义上,表面地; 应名儿 | |
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81 trot | |
n.疾走,慢跑;n.老太婆;现成译本;(复数)trots:腹泻(与the 连用);v.小跑,快步走,赶紧 | |
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82 trotted | |
小跑,急走( trot的过去分词 ); 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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83 intoxication | |
n.wild excitement;drunkenness;poisoning | |
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84 phenomena | |
n.现象 | |
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85 attentive | |
adj.注意的,专心的;关心(别人)的,殷勤的 | |
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86 anecdote | |
n.轶事,趣闻,短故事 | |
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87 theatrical | |
adj.剧场的,演戏的;做戏似的,做作的 | |
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88 malice | |
n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
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89 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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90 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
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91 scowl | |
vi.(at)生气地皱眉,沉下脸,怒视;n.怒容 | |
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92 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
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93 lore | |
n.传说;学问,经验,知识 | |
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94 clinching | |
v.(尤指两人)互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的现在分词 );解决(争端、交易),达成(协议) | |
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95 repartee | |
n.机敏的应答 | |
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96 groove | |
n.沟,槽;凹线,(刻出的)线条,习惯 | |
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97 contingencies | |
n.偶然发生的事故,意外事故( contingency的名词复数 );以备万一 | |
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98 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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99 minutiae | |
n.微小的细节,细枝末节;(常复数)细节,小事( minutia的名词复数 ) | |
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100 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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101 courteously | |
adv.有礼貌地,亲切地 | |
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102 suavely | |
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103 hymns | |
n.赞美诗,圣歌,颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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104 mellow | |
adj.柔和的;熟透的;v.变柔和;(使)成熟 | |
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105 morale | |
n.道德准则,士气,斗志 | |
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106 delude | |
vt.欺骗;哄骗 | |
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107 sprint | |
n.短距离赛跑;vi. 奋力而跑,冲刺;vt.全速跑过 | |
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108 sprints | |
n.短距离的全速奔跑( sprint的名词复数 )v.短距离疾跑( sprint的第三人称单数 ) | |
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109 monotonous | |
adj.单调的,一成不变的,使人厌倦的 | |
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110 chilly | |
adj.凉快的,寒冷的 | |
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111 mortifying | |
adj.抑制的,苦修的v.使受辱( mortify的现在分词 );伤害(人的感情);克制;抑制(肉体、情感等) | |
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112 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
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113 blandly | |
adv.温和地,殷勤地 | |
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114 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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115 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
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116 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
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117 sling | |
vt.扔;悬挂;n.挂带;吊索,吊兜;弹弓 | |
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118 moodily | |
adv.喜怒无常地;情绪多变地;心情不稳地;易生气地 | |
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119 instructor | |
n.指导者,教员,教练 | |
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120 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
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121 burlesque | |
v.嘲弄,戏仿;n.嘲弄,取笑,滑稽模仿 | |
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122 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
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123 scurrilous | |
adj.下流的,恶意诽谤的 | |
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124 deftly | |
adv.灵巧地,熟练地,敏捷地 | |
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125 ribs | |
n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 );(船或屋顶等的)肋拱;肋骨状的东西;(织物的)凸条花纹 | |
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126 plaintively | |
adv.悲哀地,哀怨地 | |
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127 mariner | |
n.水手号不载人航天探测器,海员,航海者 | |
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128 enquired | |
打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 ); 询问; 问问题; 查问 | |
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129 enquire | |
v.打听,询问;调查,查问 | |
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130 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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131 hemming | |
卷边 | |
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132 muffle | |
v.围裹;抑制;发低沉的声音 | |
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133 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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134 dispelling | |
v.驱散,赶跑( dispel的现在分词 ) | |
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135 boredom | |
n.厌烦,厌倦,乏味,无聊 | |
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136 sprinted | |
v.短距离疾跑( sprint的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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137 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
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138 broached | |
v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 );打开并开始用;用凿子扩大(或修光);(在桶上)钻孔取液体 | |
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139 sumptuous | |
adj.豪华的,奢侈的,华丽的 | |
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140 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
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141 animated | |
adj.生气勃勃的,活跃的,愉快的 | |
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142 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
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143 discursive | |
adj.离题的,无层次的 | |
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144 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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145 asterisk | |
n.星号,星标 | |
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146 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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147 demon | |
n.魔鬼,恶魔 | |
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148 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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149 lengthened | |
(时间或空间)延长,伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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150 abrupt | |
adj.突然的,意外的;唐突的,鲁莽的 | |
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151 lull | |
v.使安静,使入睡,缓和,哄骗;n.暂停,间歇 | |
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152 justified | |
a.正当的,有理的 | |
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153 conscientious | |
adj.审慎正直的,认真的,本着良心的 | |
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154 tersely | |
adv. 简捷地, 简要地 | |
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155 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
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156 corroborated | |
v.证实,支持(某种说法、信仰、理论等)( corroborate的过去式 ) | |
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157 specially | |
adv.特定地;特殊地;明确地 | |
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158 odds | |
n.让步,机率,可能性,比率;胜败优劣之别 | |
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159 tune | |
n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整 | |
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160 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
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161 stipulation | |
n.契约,规定,条文;条款说明 | |
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162 rigidly | |
adv.刻板地,僵化地 | |
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163 bluebells | |
n.圆叶风铃草( bluebell的名词复数 ) | |
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164 ballad | |
n.歌谣,民谣,流行爱情歌曲 | |
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165 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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166 truce | |
n.休战,(争执,烦恼等的)缓和;v.以停战结束 | |
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167 brutally | |
adv.残忍地,野蛮地,冷酷无情地 | |
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168 tonic | |
n./adj.滋补品,补药,强身的,健体的 | |
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169 clinched | |
v.(尤指两人)互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 );解决(争端、交易),达成(协议) | |
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170 beak | |
n.鸟嘴,茶壶嘴,钩形鼻 | |
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171 laconically | |
adv.简短地,简洁地 | |
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172 herald | |
vt.预示...的来临,预告,宣布,欢迎 | |
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173 entreaties | |
n.恳求,乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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174 hoarse | |
adj.嘶哑的,沙哑的 | |
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175 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
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176 convivial | |
adj.狂欢的,欢乐的 | |
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177 refreshment | |
n.恢复,精神爽快,提神之事物;(复数)refreshments:点心,茶点 | |
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178 condescending | |
adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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179 concealment | |
n.隐藏, 掩盖,隐瞒 | |
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180 bulge | |
n.突出,膨胀,激增;vt.突出,膨胀 | |
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181 genially | |
adv.亲切地,和蔼地;快活地 | |
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182 robust | |
adj.强壮的,强健的,粗野的,需要体力的,浓的 | |
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183 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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184 vanquishing | |
v.征服( vanquish的现在分词 );战胜;克服;抑制 | |
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185 astounding | |
adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊,使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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186 sprinting | |
v.短距离疾跑( sprint的现在分词 ) | |
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187 overhauling | |
n.大修;拆修;卸修;翻修v.彻底检查( overhaul的现在分词 );大修;赶上;超越 | |
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188 horrified | |
a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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189 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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190 hurled | |
v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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191 hampered | |
妨碍,束缚,限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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192 raucous | |
adj.(声音)沙哑的,粗糙的 | |
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193 bellow | |
v.吼叫,怒吼;大声发出,大声喝道 | |
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194 festive | |
adj.欢宴的,节日的 | |
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195 consecutive | |
adj.连续的,联贯的,始终一贯的 | |
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196 loathed | |
v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 );极不喜欢 | |
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197 hindrance | |
n.妨碍,障碍 | |
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198 inspection | |
n.检查,审查,检阅 | |
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199 reptiles | |
n.爬行动物,爬虫( reptile的名词复数 ) | |
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200 initiation | |
n.开始 | |
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201 instinctively | |
adv.本能地 | |
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202 slay | |
v.杀死,宰杀,杀戮 | |
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203 conjectured | |
推测,猜测,猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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204 adage | |
n.格言,古训 | |
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205 celebrities | |
n.(尤指娱乐界的)名人( celebrity的名词复数 );名流;名声;名誉 | |
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206 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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207 motive | |
n.动机,目的;adv.发动的,运动的 | |
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208 prudence | |
n.谨慎,精明,节俭 | |
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209 scruples | |
n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 );顾虑,顾忌v.感到于心不安,有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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210 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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211 detested | |
v.憎恶,嫌恶,痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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212 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
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213 regiment | |
n.团,多数,管理;v.组织,编成团,统制 | |
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214 disapproval | |
n.反对,不赞成 | |
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215 fray | |
v.争吵;打斗;磨损,磨破;n.吵架;打斗 | |
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216 anatomy | |
n.解剖学,解剖;功能,结构,组织 | |
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217 inadequate | |
adj.(for,to)不充足的,不适当的 | |
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218 fleeting | |
adj.短暂的,飞逝的 | |
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219 fervently | |
adv.热烈地,热情地,强烈地 | |
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220 physically | |
adj.物质上,体格上,身体上,按自然规律 | |
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221 collapsed | |
adj.倒塌的 | |
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222 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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223 tangled | |
adj. 纠缠的,紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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224 cursory | |
adj.粗略的;草率的;匆促的 | |
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225 enamel | |
n.珐琅,搪瓷,瓷釉;(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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226 triumphantly | |
ad.得意洋洋地;得胜地;成功地 | |
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227 plucky | |
adj.勇敢的 | |
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228 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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229 fetters | |
n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 );束缚v.给…上脚镣,束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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230 bureaucrats | |
n.官僚( bureaucrat的名词复数 );官僚主义;官僚主义者;官僚语言 | |
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231 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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232 rumbling | |
n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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233 joints | |
接头( joint的名词复数 ); 关节; 公共场所(尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所) (非正式); 一块烤肉 (英式英语) | |
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234 spun | |
v.纺,杜撰,急转身 | |
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235 appalling | |
adj.骇人听闻的,令人震惊的,可怕的 | |
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236 inviting | |
adj.诱人的,引人注目的 | |
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237 feats | |
功绩,伟业,技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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238 invoked | |
v.援引( invoke的过去式和过去分词 );行使(权利等);祈求救助;恳求 | |
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239 gallantly | |
adv. 漂亮地,勇敢地,献殷勤地 | |
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240 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
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241 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
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242 yarn | |
n.纱,纱线,纺线;奇闻漫谈,旅行轶事 | |
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243 embarked | |
乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 ); 装载; 从事 | |
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244 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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245 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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246 obsolete | |
adj.已废弃的,过时的 | |
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247 briefly | |
adv.简单地,简短地 | |
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248 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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249 pessimist | |
n.悲观者;悲观主义者;厌世 | |
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250 superfluous | |
adj.过多的,过剩的,多余的 | |
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251 strapping | |
adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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252 specimen | |
n.样本,标本 | |
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253 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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254 rivalry | |
n.竞争,竞赛,对抗 | |
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255 philosophical | |
adj.哲学家的,哲学上的,达观的 | |
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256 vigour | |
(=vigor)n.智力,体力,精力 | |
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257 aggrieved | |
adj.愤愤不平的,受委屈的;悲痛的;(在合法权利方面)受侵害的v.令委屈,令苦恼,侵害( aggrieve的过去式);令委屈,令苦恼,侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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258 emphatic | |
adj.强调的,着重的;无可置疑的,明显的 | |
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259 sagely | |
adv. 贤能地,贤明地 | |
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260 rumour | |
n.谣言,谣传,传闻 | |
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261 lining | |
n.衬里,衬料 | |
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262 extraordinarily | |
adv.格外地;极端地 | |
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263 risky | |
adj.有风险的,冒险的 | |
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264 sprinter | |
n.短跑运动员,短距离全速奔跑者 | |
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265 futile | |
adj.无效的,无用的,无希望的 | |
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266 detailed | |
adj.详细的,详尽的,极注意细节的,完全的 | |
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267 dodging | |
n.避开,闪过,音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 );回避 | |
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268 precipitating | |
adj.急落的,猛冲的v.(突如其来地)使发生( precipitate的现在分词 );促成;猛然摔下;使沉淀 | |
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269 bruise | |
n.青肿,挫伤;伤痕;vt.打青;挫伤 | |
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270 beckoning | |
adj.引诱人的,令人心动的v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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271 confidentially | |
ad.秘密地,悄悄地 | |
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272 melodious | |
adj.旋律美妙的,调子优美的,音乐性的 | |
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273 sedate | |
adj.沉着的,镇静的,安静的 | |
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274 ushered | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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275 lucidly | |
adv.清透地,透明地 | |
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276 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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277 follower | |
n.跟随者;随员;门徒;信徒 | |
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278 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
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279 shamefully | |
可耻地; 丢脸地; 不体面地; 羞耻地 | |
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280 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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281 relentless | |
adj.残酷的,不留情的,无怜悯心的 | |
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282 pedagogue | |
n.教师 | |
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