All that weeping night of rain Rob travelled towards Glen Lyon glad for every foot of heather between him and the weird1 house upon the loch. Passing through the country of the Mackenzies he reached Killin, and there fell in with a band of gipsies sitting round their camp fire. They numbered about a score—men, women, and little brown children—and they welcomed him to share their meat in the kindliest manner, asking no questions and displaying no curiosity in his affairs. Only the chief knew Gaelic, and he was all the more ready to hear the news of the north from Rob, who gathered that his affection for the red-coats was by no means warm.
Rob accepted his kindness with a qualm of self reproach. It had suddenly occurred to him that in accepting such a wealth of hospitality he was endangering them to the vengeance3 of the Government. Such a prospect4 was not to be contemplated5.
"Let me speak to you alone," he said to the chief.
In the privacy of the tent he told him all.
"I will not attempt to deny," said he, "that there are those who would give much to capture me, not for any importance I may have, but because of another...."
The gipsy followed his words with expressionless attention. Then rising he drew a paper from his pocket.
"Read," he said simply.
It was a Government notice for posting up under gibbets and suchlike, intimating that anyone who laid one, Rob Fraser, by the heels, dead or alive, would receive a reward of fifty pounds. Rob turned cold at the dreadful wording of it. It described him minutely, and went on to say that he was last seen with the notorious rebel called "Muckle John."
"You knew?" said he at last.
The other laughed softly.
"What does it matter?" he replied, "but I thank you for your confidence, and when next you see Muckle John say that Gloom the Gipsy has not forgotten him."
"Are you a friend of Muckle John?"
"I may be counted such, though he has no lack of friends—or enemies."
"But I cannot imperil your people, it is more than is reasonable."
"Rob Fraser," said Gloom very gravely, "you are as good as taken. The soldiers are watching for you on the Highland7 Line, and from here to Stirling is alive with spies. To-morrow we will carry you through Balquhidder, for if you fell foul8 of the wild caterans there it would be a short shift for you."
"Balquhidder—I have heard the name...."
"It's clear ye are north country bred," he said, "there are more thieves Balquhidder way than in Lochaber itself."
Thankful indeed for his good fortune Rob bade his friend good-night, and lying down before the fire was soon fast asleep.
With the dawn they were marching towards Crianlarich where they took to the heather, and crossing the hills came down upon Loch Doine at the head of Balquhidder. As they streamed into the flat country at the top of the loch they passed a square thatched house at the foot of the slope facing the amber11 stream.
"That is Inverlochlarig where Rob Roy died," said Gloom. "I mind him well, a great red man with a heart of gold. But his sons are corbies, and I am hoping we do not meet them."
All up the side of the stream the cottages of the Macgregors clustered, with the thin veil of peat reek12 hanging above them in a kind of haze13.
Without halting they passed over the flat marshy14 land that lay between the two ranges of mountain, and approached a small compactly built house upon the other side of the burn.
"We will stop here for the night," said Gloom, "and maybe Invernenty will see us. He is no friend of the Macgregors, being son of John Maclaren who was murdered by Robin15 Oig."
Leaving Rob he crossed the narrow stream and knocking upon the door exchanged some words with a woman who opened it. But to all that he said she only shook her head, and he returned somewhat discomfited16.
"She says that Invernenty is not at home," he said, calling him by the name of his place, "and yet I am doubting her unless he is taken."
Without delay they set their camp, and during the day several Macgregors came over and eyed them secretly, red men in a red tartan—querulous, hot-blooded fellows.
Rob, ill at ease in a strange country, kept in the background, but in the afternoon seeing a great crowd of them gathered about a place up the glen he accompanied Gloom, being wearied of sitting alone.
The Macgregors with a sprinkling of Maclarens were handling a curious smooth stone with holes for a finger and a thumb, and competing with one another in lifting it upon a small rock that stood in close proximity17.
A tall dark sombre-looking man leaning upon a rude crutch18 and with a pale harassed19 face was regarding the scene from a little distance. He was dressed in riding clothes and with a greatcoat buttoned up closely as though he were ill. Rob was on the point of asking who he was when he became aware of the other's close scrutiny20.
There was something dangerously interested in the manner he stared—taking him in with his dark cunning eyes, measuring his height in his mind—the set of his face, conjuring21 up every detail circumspectly22.
"Gloom," said Rob in a whisper, "there's a man up on the brae has a notion who I am."
"Misfortune take it," he murmured, "but it is James More, son of Rob Roy, new come from Culloden. He was wounded, ye mind."
Presently without a word or any sign James Macgregor moved painfully away and entered Inverlochlarig.
"Come, Rob," said Gloom, "I would not trust that man a foot. He is up to mischief24, and it's like enough we were better over Glenbucket than here."
Evening drew on, but there was no sign of trouble. At the rising of the moon, however, a tall gaunt woman with a plaid over her head asked for a word with the gipsy. They went apart together and conferred in low tones. And then as silently as she had come the woman vanished into the shadows.
"Rob," said Gloom, "there's danger threatening—when was there not in this wild country? Who do you think that was?"
Rob shook his head.
"Who but John Maclaren himself, new come from giving the red-coats the go-bye on the road to Carlisle. He says James is up to his pranks25, and that the clan26 are scared to death at the very sight of you in the heart of their country. It is away we must go, Rob," and summoning his men they prepared to set out, leaving their camp fires burning in case their flight was suspected. Over the cleft27 in the hills they went, and crossing the top of Beinn-an-Shithein, came down on Strathyre and Castle Murdoch.
"There is a strange man lives there," said the gipsy to Rob, "it's like enough he will send us about our business should we stop."
"Who are ye?" snarled28 a voice at that moment from the wall of the place, "ye canna bide29 hereabouts."
The moon had risen and under its clear rays Rob looked up and saw a white-haired man watching them from the rampart.
"I am Gloom," replied the gipsy.
"And who is that with you, he is none of your people."
"He is a friend, Murdoch."
"Bring him here—this is an ill time for friends," and he disappeared.
A few minutes later they saw him crossing the courtyard, a lamp swinging in his hand, limping through a shortness of his right leg, and frowning at them as he peered through the shattered iron gates.
"Come nearer," he rasped, "you boy there with the borrowed claes."
Rob took a step towards him so that the light streamed down upon his features.
"Humph!" grunted31 Murdoch, cocking his eyes at the gipsy, "it is queer company ye're taken up with, my man. Do ye ken2 who that is with his innocent face and braw blue eyes? That's the lad of Muckle John."
"Whist!" warned Gloom, "the very rocks have ears."
At that moment a little girl came running over the courtyard.
"What did ye say of Muckle John?" she asked.
"Gang to your bed, Ethlenn," screamed the old man. "Janet, away with the bairn."
"Can we bide the night here?" asked the gipsy, but with poor enough heart in it.
"Bide the night," echoed Murdoch sharply, "bide the night in company with yon? Can ye—by the dogs of Lorn I think ye're crazed. What have I ever done to ye that ye should mak' me sic a daft-like proposal?"
"It is no use, Rob," said Gloom sadly.
With a kind of horror at his own notoriety Rob turned away and passed down the slope. He heard the voice of Murdoch raised in shrill33 anger and falling into nothingness on the wind. Behind him trooped the gipsies, uncomplaining but dispirited, streaming towards Strathyre.
And so passing through the sleeping village they reached the narrow defile34 at the head of Loch Lubnaig, and ascending35 the hillside passed a dreary36 night.
It was just before the dawn of the next day that Rob came to a decision, which appeared to him the only wise and honest thing to do. He wrote a brief note to Gloom thanking him for his great kindness, and stating that he would be far towards the south by the morning.
Then stepping between the gipsies' sleeping forms he came down upon the loch and set off at a trot37 for Kilmahog.
Many days afterwards—days full to the brim of danger and heavy travelling, Rob reached Edinburgh and wandered about the High Street. He had managed to purchase another set of clothes, and for the present he deemed himself safe, and on the morrow he would keep his tryst38 with Muckle John at Leith.
It was about midday that he saw a great coach lumbering39 over the rude cobbles jolting40 and groaning41, and about it a party of dragoons. A sudden fear gripped him that perchance this was a prisoner, who knew—perhaps Muckle John himself.
He pushed his way to the front of the crowd. Nearer clattered43 the dragoons, a braver sight than when they had entered that same street in the year '45. The horses straining at the coach were level with him now, and he bent44 forward, his eyes glued to the window. It was but a flash, but he never forgot it.
For lolling forward, leering grotesquely45 either in derision or some kindred emotion, sat Simon, Lord Lovat, bound for London and Tower Hill.
His small shrewd eyes travelling over the crowd settled for an instant upon Rob, and contracted suddenly as though he half recollected46 him, but was not sure. Then he was gone, and that was the last of the Fraser.
The scene sobered what little foolhardiness there was left in Rob. It made him walk less abroad. The arm of the law was long, but the arm of the Government was longer.
More than once he had a curious intuition on that afternoon that he was being followed. It might be only an accident, but he had run into two slouching frowsy rascals47 on two separate occasions, and each time they had stared very hard and looked back at him over their shoulders.
At last overcome by fear of capture he had taken to his heels and run up one close and down another, being quite unfamiliar48 with the City, but only anxious to shake off any shadowing. After he had doubled and dodged49 for a full half-hour he took cover upon an ancient stairway beside the White Horse Inn, and there he waited to see what would happen and whether there were really any upon his trail. It was about five minutes later that the noise of a man panting up the lane set him keeking down to see who came so hastily. To his dismay it was one of the loafers of the afternoon, and hard on his heels the other. They passed at a run and their footsteps died away.
Then speeding in the opposite direction Rob found a lodging52 in another inn, and slept far into the following day—the day on which he was to meet Muckle John and win to freedom at last. After all the turmoil53 and distress54 of the weeks following Culloden, it was a strange enough sensation to think of the great towns ahead in Holland or France, where there was no dire51 necessity to keep one eye over your shoulder and the other cocked upon the end of the street, and where a Jacobite was not considered food for the nearest gallows56 tree.
So thinking (and yet with misgiving57 for all that) Rob passed cannily58 out of Edinburgh and along the way to Leith, and again the dread6 fear that he was being followed took possession of him. The sun was falling when he saw the lonesome gibbet tree stuck up against the skyline. On it the body of some luckless creature was swinging in its chains—he could just catch the dreary creaking on the wind.
He looked backward for the twentieth time. But all the desolate59 landscape seemed empty of living soul or beast.
And yet he could have sworn that he had seen a head dodge50 behind the tussock of coarse rank grass just on the top of the mound60. He was so sure of it he ran back, but when he reached it there was nothing. Then bending as a true hillsman reads the ground he saw the fresh mark of a boot in the wet sand.
Out on the Firth of Forth63 a ship was running up her canvas to the breeze, and it set him wondering in an idle fashion whether Muckle John might not be already aboard starting for France.
And then the sunlight faded and the greyness of the gloaming crept up from the sea.
Clink, clink, went the chains upon the forlorn gibbet tree, and with a deeper rustier64 note as the wood groaned65 and shuddered66 in its joints67.
He walked slowly up the sloping sandy path. Above him, black above the evening sky swung the dead man—some poor soul less guilty of wrong maybe than he himself.
Then sitting upon a heap of sand beside the dreary burden with its dismal68 refrain he waited for what might befall. That there was danger afoot he knew instinctively69, but his great reliance upon Muckle John seemed to almost dissipate such perils70. There was a mountain of strength in Muckle John.
The darkness was falling fast when of a sudden, like the spring of a leopard71 for swiftness, a man was upon his back and with the crook72 of his arm around his throat. Uttering one faint cry Rob tumbled backwards73, and before he could struggle to his feet, his legs were gripped by another man and a third flung himself bodily upon his chest.
As far as Rob was concerned the question of France was over and done with. It was a sad enough ending to all his brave adventures to be bowled over by three vagabonds on Leith sands, and trussed like a hen.
But there was more in it than that.
For out of the twilight came a tall man walking at his leisure, and even before he spoke74 Rob knew him for Captain Strange.
"Well," he said quietly, "so this is the end, Rob, and what a braw place to be sure. It was almost tempting75 providence76 with that clinking cratur to warn ye."
He motioned to the men to leave them, and sitting down began to talk in an affable pleasant manner as though he were discussing the weather or the price of stocks.
"Hark ye, Rob," he said, "I ken fine who ye're waiting for. It's Muckle John no less, and what I have in my mind I must say quickly. Now we want this little business carried through expeditiously77 and with discretion78. We do not want any pranks, mind ye, and ye ken Muckle John as a man as full of tricks as a monkey. I want ye to sit here, Rob, until he comes, and promise me no to say a word to set him thinking. If ye carry this out I will say what I can for you when the time comes."
"I will shout a warning while I have breath in my body," cried Rob.
"Very good," replied Strange, "very good; in that case I will gag you surely enough, and here goes."
With that he stuffed a pad of cloth into his mouth and fastened a bandage round his cheeks. Then springing to his feet he listened intently. Very faintly the sound of whistling drifted up from the sands. Up above the gibbet chains creaked to and fro, and in the tragic79 silence of the twilight the man came trudging80 to his doom81.
It was all over as the newcomer stooped over Rob. With a muffled83 shout he fell and rose again, and writhing84 spasmodically was stunned85 to silence. From the size of him Rob knew it could be none other than Muckle John.
"A light!" cried Strange, in high glee over it all.
They swung a lantern nearer and turned their prisoner over upon his back.
And there, glaring up at them with apoplectic86 rage lay James Fraser of Castleleathers. It was a moment full of gall55 for Strange.
As for Castleleathers, worthy87 man, being much bruised88 and scratched and with a bump like an egg on his head, it was a mercy that he had no breath to express his feelings on the matter. But when he did he only added to Strange's mortification89. For on hearing of the plan to capture Muckle John which (being a professed90 Hanoverian) he could not criticize adversely91, he expressed a deep regret that he had not beguiled92 the rebel with his conversation, having met him upon the road a mile back.
"A mile back," cried Strange, "then he will come here yet."
"No," said Castleleathers in his methodical tone, "no, I think not, for he has boarded a ship for France."
Strange uttered an exclamation93 of disgust.
"I told you he would throw you over, Rob, when the time came," said he with a sour look.
Certainly it appeared like it.
But Castleleathers had more to say.
"Will you give me a hearin'," he broke in peevishly94. "Muckle John would have come, but I counselled him not."
"You did?" screamed Strange. "But this is open treason, Major Fraser."
"No," said Castleleathers stoutly95, "oh no, I assure you there is no more loyal servant of the King than I. But I saw no service that he could render Rob, except to endanger him as an associate of a notorious Jacobite."
"Indeed," said Strange, "but Rob is none so far removed from that himsel'. He is like enough to take the place of the hanged one above ye, Major Fraser."
"Pardon me, no," replied Castleleathers blandly96, "here I have a pardon for Rob signed by the Duke himsel'."
"It's a forgery," cried Strange hotly, "let me see it."
"In my hands, Captain Strange—no, stand back a wee—hold the light higher, now can ye see? Will you dispute that, my man? There is his royal signature, bless him!"
Strange eyed it gloomily.
"There is something queer about this," he said. "I will see the Duke."
Castleleathers smiled.
"All the way to London?" he asked. "The Duke will not thank ye."
Over their heads the haunted chains jingled97 merrily. It must have been a rare joke to send them clinking like that. Suddenly from the ends of nowhere there was a sound like a smothered98 laugh.
"I heard nothing," replied Castleleathers, then starting to his feet, "but surely there is the noise of a horse."
"A horse," said Strange, "who knows it may be Muckle John himself."
"No," corrected Castleleathers composedly, "no, I think not. I think—in fact I am sure—it is my wife."
"Your wife!" cried Rob, who had worked the gag out at last, and who had been apparently100 overlooked in the discussion.
Castleleathers switched about.
"Bless us," he said, "I had clean forgotten ye, Rob, you were so quiet. What's amiss with you?"
"I am bound hand and foot."
"Mercy me," said Castleleathers, "but you have a queer way with you, Captain Strange. There ye are, Rob," and he set him free, "and now what's there so wonderful in my having a wife? She's your ain aunt Macpherson. It's my nephew ye are, Rob, and if I ever hear of this Jacobite business again I'll skelp ye mair than she ever did, poor woman."
It was indeed Miss Macpherson (or rather Mrs. James Fraser of Castleleathers), and at the sight of her Strange bowed very coldly, remembering the escape from Fort Augustus, and calling his men disappeared towards Edinburgh.
"Sit ye doon a moment," said Castleleathers, "though it's a dreary enough place for family reunions."
But Rob only stared out to sea where the moon was pouring a broad pathway of silver upon the quivering water.
"Did Muckle John not give ye a message for me?" he asked. "It will be long ere we see him again."
Castleleathers took a keek over his shoulder.
"To be honest, Rob," he said, "I never saw him at all. Maybe he's coming or maybe he is no sae far off as ye think."
"He was the queer yin," remarked Mrs. Fraser, "though he had a way with him, mind ye. That night in Inverness, Rob—that was a scene. There was I dancing like a young yin, and all to a scrap101 of a tune10 he was whistling something like this..." and she tried to whistle, but failed most signally.
"No," said Rob, "it was more like this," but he had not the twist of it at all.
"Ye're all out together," cried a voice in the night. "Was it no this?" and the west wind carried the rhythm of the reel into the night.
"Where is he?" whispered Castleleathers, looking about.
"It's no canny," said his wife with a shiver.
"Muckle John!" cried Rob.
The tune stopped, and suddenly as it were in the midst of them with the ghastly thing over their heads creaking and clacking, the voice of Muckle John was singing, and these were the words he sang:
Swing—swing in the hail and snow,
Dead banes clinkin' frae dawn to nicht,
Creak—creak to the hoodie crow
From rising sun to grey moonlicht.
"Life's but a braw claymore," sang he.
The waves gang jinkin' ower the shore,
A seagull laughs as he skims the sea,
While he swings to and fro on the Gibbet Tree.
The nicht creeps back o'er the cold grey tide,
The wind sighs over the barren lea,
Oh wad that the dark could for ever hide
The feckless loon on the Gibbet Tree.
There comes a lad at the turn o' nicht,
"It's hereabouts that he said he'd be—
There's a ship at sea with a golden licht,
But no Muckle John 'neath the Gibbet Tree."
Swing—swing in the hail and snow,
Dead banes clinkin' frae dawn to nicht,
Creak—creak to the hoodie crow
From rising sun to grey moonlicht.
It was above them up in the air or they were going mad.
Suddenly the song ceased and with a great rattle107 of chains the gibbet's burden dropped with a clatter42, and at that Mrs. Fraser came dangerously near to swooning for the first and last time in her life.
IT WAS MUCKLE JOHN!
"Good evening to you," he cried, "and rare luck to the bride and bridegroom. Well, Rob, so it's fine to be a free man and a good ending to a brave cause."
"But you, Muckle John—what of you? Do you go to sea to-night?"
He shook his head.
"Not yet," he said, and held Rob by the hand for a moment saying nothing. Then taking his whistle from his pocket he broke into a jig108, and in the yellow light of the lantern he started dancing under the empty gibbet tree.
It took doucer people than the Frasers to stand still when that kind of thing was afoot. Once again Rob and his aunt tripped it finely, and Castleleathers, that mountain of flesh and brawn109, was not backward.
It was a strange sight that, with the forlorn place, and the crying from the sea, and the blinking weird light and the black figures skipping like ghosts beneath a starlit sky.
They danced till all the breath was clean gone out of them, and they stopped just because the music was no longer there. For unseen to any Muckle John had stolen softly away playing as he went, passing like a shadow, or a dream, or a memory, into the vast darkness.
They stood for a space catching110 the lingering notes of it, and then it was gathered into the night, and became part of the sea, and the wind, and the soft song of the rustling111 heath, and so was gone.
And that was the last of Muckle John.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
ken
|
|
| n.视野，知识领域 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
vengeance
|
|
| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
contemplated
|
|
| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
highland
|
|
| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
outright
|
|
| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
amber
|
|
| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
reek
|
|
| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
haze
|
|
| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
marshy
|
|
| adj.沼泽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
robin
|
|
| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
discomfited
|
|
| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
proximity
|
|
| n.接近，邻近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
crutch
|
|
| n.T字形拐杖；支持，依靠，精神支柱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
harassed
|
|
| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
scrutiny
|
|
| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
conjuring
|
|
| n.魔术 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
circumspectly
|
|
| adv.慎重地，留心地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
casually
|
|
| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
pranks
|
|
| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
clan
|
|
| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
cleft
|
|
| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
snarled
|
|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
bide
|
|
| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
skulking
|
|
| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
grunted
|
|
| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
defile
|
|
| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
ascending
|
|
| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
tryst
|
|
| n.约会；v.与…幽会 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
lumbering
|
|
| n.采伐林木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
jolting
|
|
| adj.令人震惊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
groaning
|
|
| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
clatter
|
|
| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
clattered
|
|
| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
grotesquely
|
|
| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
recollected
|
|
| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
rascals
|
|
| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
unfamiliar
|
|
| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
dodged
|
|
| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
dodge
|
|
| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
dire
|
|
| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
lodging
|
|
| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
turmoil
|
|
| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
gall
|
|
| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
gallows
|
|
| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
misgiving
|
|
| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
cannily
|
|
| 精明地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
mound
|
|
| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
lurking
|
|
| 潜在 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
dunes
|
|
| 沙丘( dune的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
rustier
|
|
| 生锈的( rusty的比较级 )； 荒疏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
65
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
shuddered
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
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） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
dismal
|
|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
perils
|
|
| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
leopard
|
|
| n.豹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
crook
|
|
| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
backwards
|
|
| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
tempting
|
|
| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
expeditiously
|
|
| adv.迅速地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
discretion
|
|
| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
trudging
|
|
| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
doom
|
|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
writhing
|
|
| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
stunned
|
|
| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
apoplectic
|
|
| adj.中风的；愤怒的；n.中风患者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
bruised
|
|
| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
mortification
|
|
| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
adversely
|
|
| ad.有害地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
beguiled
|
|
| v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
exclamation
|
|
| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
peevishly
|
|
| adv．暴躁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
stoutly
|
|
| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
blandly
|
|
| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
jingled
|
|
| 喝醉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
smothered
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
furtively
|
|
| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
lark
|
|
| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
blithe
|
|
| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
nought
|
|
| n.／adj.无，零 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
groans
|
|
| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
loon
|
|
| n.狂人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
rattle
|
|
| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
jig
|
|
| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
brawn
|
|
| n.体力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |