It so fell that one dark evening in the month of June I was belated in the Bernese Oberland. Dusk overtook me toiling1 along the great Chamounix Road, and in the heart of a most desolate3 gorge4, whose towering snow-flung walls seemed—as the day sucked inwards to a point secret as a leech's mouth—to close about me like a monstrous5 amphitheatre of ghosts. The rutted road, dipping and climbing toilfully against the shouldering of great tumbled boulders6, or winning for itself but narrow foothold over slippery ridges8, was thawed10 clear of snow; but the cold soft peril14 yet lay upon its flanks thick enough for a wintry plunge15 of ten feet, or may be fifty where the edge of the causeway fell over to the lower furrows16 of the ravine. It was a matter of policy to go with caution, and a thing of some moment to hear the thud and splintering of little distant icefalls about one in the darkness. Now and again a cold arrow of wind would sing down from the frosty peaks above or jerk with a squiggle of laughter among the fallen slabs17 in the valley. And these were the only voices to prick19 me on through a dreariness20 lonely as death.
I knew the road, but not its night terrors. Passing along it some days before in the glory of sunshine, broad paddocks and islands of green had comforted the shattered white ruin of the place, and I had traversed it merely as a magnificent episode in the indifferent history of my life. Now, as it seemed, I became one with it—an awful waif of solemnity, a thing apart from mankind and its warm intercourse21 and ruddy inn doors, a spectral22 anomaly, whose austere23 epitaph was once writ24 upon the snow coating some fallen slab18 of those glimmering25 about me. I thought the whole gorge smelt26 of tombs, like the vault27 of a cathedral. I thought, in the incomprehensible low moaning sound that ever and again seemed to eddy28 about me when the wind had swooped29 and passed, that I recognised the forlorn voices of brother spirits long since dead and forgotten of the world.
Suddenly I felt the sweat cold under the knapsack that swung upon my back; stopped, faced about and became human again. Ridge9 over ridge to my right the mountain summits fell away against a fathomless31 sky; and topping the furthermost was a little paring of silver light, the coronet of the rising moon. But the glory of the full orb32 was in the retrospect33; for, closing the savage34 vista35 of the ravine, stood up far away a cluster of jagged pinnacles—opal, translucent36, lustrous37 as the peaks of icebergs38 that are the frozen music of the sea.
It was the toothed summit of the Aiguille Verte, now prosaically39 bathed in the light of the full moon; but to me, looking from that grim and passionless hollow, it stood for the white hand of God lifted in menace to the evil spirits of the glen.
I drank my fill of the good sight, and then turned me to my tramp again with a freshness in my throat as though it had gulped41 a glass of champagne42. Presently I knew myself descending43, leaving, as I felt rather than saw, the stark44 horror of the gorge and its glimmering snow patches above me. Puffs45 of a warmer air purred past my face with little friendly sighs of welcome, and the hum of a far-off torrent46 struck like a wedge into the indurated fibre of the night. As I dropped, however, the mountain heads grew up against the moon, and withheld47 the comfort of her radiance; and it was not until the whimper of the torrent had quickened about me to a plunging49 roar, and my foot was on the striding bridge that took its waters at a step, that her light broke through a topmost cleft50 in the hills, and made glory of the leaping thunder that crashed beneath my feet.
Thereafter all was peace. The road led downwards51 into a broadening valley, where the smell of flowers came about me, and the mountain walls withdrew and were no longer overwhelming. The slope eased off, dipping and rising no more than a ground swell52; and by-and-by I was on a level track that ran straight as a stretched ribbon and was reasonable to my tired feet.
Now the first dusky châlets of the hamlet of Bel-Oiseau straggled towards me, and it was music in my ears to hear the cattle blow and rattle53 in their stalls under the sleeping lofts55 as I passed outside in the moonlight. Five minutes more, and the great zinc56 onion on the spire57 of the church glistened58 towards me, and I was in the heart of the silent village.
From the deep green shadow cast by the graveyard59 wall, heavily buttressed61 against avalanches63, a form wriggled64 out into the moonlight and fell with a dusty thud at my feet, mowing65 and chopping at the air with its aimless claws. I started back with a sudden jerk of my pulses. The thing was horrible by reason of its inarticulate voice, which issued from the shapeless folds of its writhings like the wet gutturizing of a back-broken horse. Instinct with repulsion, I stood a moment dismayed, when light flashed from an open doorway66 a dozen yards further down the street, and a woman ran across to the prostrate67 form.
"Up, graceless one!" she cried; "and carry thy seven devils within doors!"
The figure gathered itself together at her voice, and stood in an angle of the buttresses68 quaking and shielding its eyes with two gaunt arms.
"Can I not exchange a word with Mère Pettit," scolded the woman, "but thou must sneak69 from behind my back on thy crazed moon-hunting?"
"Pity, pity," moaned the figure; and then the woman noticed me, and dropped a curtsy.
"Pardon," she said; "but he has been affronting70 Monsieur with his antics?"
"He is stricken, Madame?"
"Ah, yes, Monsieur. Holy Mother, but how stricken!"
"It is sad."
"Monsieur knows not how sad. It is so always, but most a great deal when the moon is full. He was a good lad once."
Monsieur puts his hand in his pocket. Madame hears the clink of coin and touches the enclosed fingers with her own delicately. Monsieur withdraws his hand empty.
"Pardon, Madame."
"Monsieur has the courage of a gentleman. Come, Camille, little fool! a sweet good-night to Monsieur."
"Stay, Madame. I have walked far and am weary. Is there an hotel in
Bel-Oiseau?"
"Monsieur is jesting. We are but a hundred of poor châlets."
"An auberge, then—a cabaret—anything?"
"Les Trois Chèvres. It is not for such as you."
"Monsieur does not know? The Hôtel Royal was burned to the walls six months since."
"It follows that I must lie in the fields."
Madame hesitates, ponders, and makes up her mind.
"I keep Monsieur talking, and the night wind is sharp from the snow. It is ill for a heated skin, and one should be indoors. I have a bedroom that is at Monsieur's disposition71, if Monsieur will condescend72?"
Monsieur will condescend. Monsieur would condescend to a loft54 and a truss of straw, in default of the neat little chilly73 chamber74 that is allotted75 him, so sick are his very limbs with long tramping, and so uninviting figures the further stretch in the moonlight to Châtelard, with its burnt-out carcase of an hotel.
This is how I came to quarter myself on Madame Barbière and her idiot son, and how I ultimately learned from the lips of the latter the strange story of his own immediate76 fall from reason and the dear light of intellect.
By day Camille Barbière proved to be a young man, some five and twenty years of age, of a handsome and impressive exterior77. His dark hair lay close about his well-shaped head; his features were regular and cut bold as an Etruscan cameo; his limbs were elastic78 and moulded into the supple79 finish of one whose life has not been set upon level roads. At a speculative80 distance he appeared a straight specimen81 of a Burgundian youth—sinewy, clean-formed, and graceful82, though slender to gauntness; and it was only on nearer contact that one marvelled85 to see the soul die out of him, as a face set in the shadow of leafage resolves itself into some accident of twisted branches as one approaches the billowing tree that presented it.
The soul of Camille, the idiot, had warped86 long after its earthly tabernacle had grown firm and fair to look upon. Cause and effect were not one from birth in him; and the result was a most wistful expression, as though the lost intellect were for ever struggling and failing to recall its ancient mastery. Mostly he was a gentle young man, noteworthy for nothing but the uncomplaining patience with which he daily observed the monotonous87 routine of simple duties that were now all-sufficient for the poor life that had "crept so long on a broken wing." He milked the big, red, barrel-bodied cow, and churned industriously88 for butter; he kept the little vegetable garden in order and nursed the Savoys into fatness like plumping babies; he drove the goats to pasture on the mountain slopes, and all day sat among the rhododendrons, the forgotten soul behind his eyes conning89 the dead language of fate, as a foreigner vainly interrogates90 the abstruse91 complexity92 of an idiom.
By-and-by I made it an irregular habit to accompany him on these shepherdings; to join him in his simple midday meal of sour brown bread and goat-milk cheese; to talk with him desultorily93, and study him the while, inasmuch as he wakened an interest in me that was full of speculation94. For his was not an imbecility either hereditary95 or constitutional. From the first there had appeared to me something abnormal in it—a suspension of intelligence only, a frost-bite in the brain that presently some April breath of memory might thaw11 out. This was not merely conjectural96, of course. I had the story of his mental collapse97 from his mother in the early days of my sojourn99 in Bel-Oiseau; for it came to pass that a fitful caprice induced me to prolong my stay in the swart little village far into the gracious Swiss summer.
The "story" I have called it; but it was none. He was out on the hills one moonlight night, and came home in the early morning mad. That was all.
This had happened some eight years before, when he was a lad of seventeen—a strong, beautiful lad, his mother told me; and with a dreamy "poet's corner" in his brain, she added, but in her own better way of putting it. She had no shame that her shepherd should be an Endymion. In Switzerland they still look upon Nature as a respectable pursuit for a young man.
Well, they had thought him possessed100 of a devil; and his father had at first sought to exorcise it with a chamois-hide thong101, as Munchausen flogged the black fox out of his skin. But the counter-irritant failed of its purpose. The devil clung deep, and rent poor Camille with periodic convulsions of insanity102.
It was noted104 that his derangement105 waxed and waned106 with the monthly moon; that it assumed a virulent107 character with the passing of the second quarter, and culminated108, as the orb reached its fulness, in a species of delirium109, during which it was necessary to carefully watch him; that it diminished with the lessening110 crescent until it fell away into a quiet abeyance111 of faculties112 that was but a step apart from the normal intelligence of his kind. At his worst he was a stricken madman acutely sensitive to impressions; at his best an inoffensive peasant who said nothing foolish and nothing wise.
When he was twenty, his father died, and Camille and his mother had to make out existence in company.
Now, the veil, in my first knowledge of him, was never rent; yet occasionally it seemed to me to gape114 in a manner that let a little momentary115 finger of light through, in the flashing of which a soul kindled116 and shut in his eyes, like a hard-dying spark in ashes. I wished to know what gave life to the spark, and I set to pondering the problem.
"He was not always thus?" I would say to Madame Barbière.
"But no, Monsieur, truly. This place—bah! we are here imbeciles all to the great world, without doubt; but Camille!—he was by nature of those who make the history of cities—a rose in the wilderness117. Monsieur smiles?"
"By no means. A scholar, Madame?"
"A scholar of nature, Monsieur; a dreamer of dreams such as they become who walk much with the spirits on the lonely mountains."
"Ah! Monsieur may talk, but he knows. He has heard the föhn sweep down from the hills and spin the great stones off the house-roofs. And one may look and see nothing, yet the stones go. It is the wind that runs before the avalanche62 that snaps the pine trees; and the wind is the spirit that calls down the great snow-slips."
"But how may Madame who sees nothing; know then a spirit to be abroad?"
"My faith; one may know one's foot is on the wild mint without shifting one's sole to look."
"Madame will pardon me. No doubt also one may know a spirit by the smell of sulphur?"
"Monsieur is a sceptic. It comes with the knowledge of cities. There are even such in little Bel-Oiseau, since the evil time when they took to engrossing119 the contracts of good citizens on the skins of the poor jew-beards that give us flesh and milk. It is horrible as the Tannery of Meudon. In my young days, Monsieur, such agreements were inscribed120 upon wood."
"Quite so, Madame, and entirely121 to the point. Also one may see from whom Camille inherited his wandering propensities122. But for his fall—it was always unaccountable?"
"Monsieur, as one trips on the edge of a crevasse123 and disappears. His soul dropped into the frozen cleft that one cannot fathom30."
"Madame will forgive my curiosity."
"But surely. There was no dark secret in my Camille's life. If the little head held pictures beyond the ken48 of us simple women, the angels painted them of a certainty. Moreover, it is that I willingly recount this grief to the wise friend that may know a solution."
"At least the little-wise can seek for one."
"Ah, if Monsieur would only find the remedy!"
"It is in the hands of fate."
Madame crossed herself.
"Of the Bon Dieu, Monsieur."
At another time Madame Barbière said:—
"It was in such a parched124 summer as this threatens to be that my Camille came home in the mists of the morning possessed. He was often out on the sweet hills all night—that was nothing. It had been a full moon, and the whiteness of it was on his face like leprosy, but his hands were hot with fever. Ah, the dreadful summer! The milk turned sour in the cows' udders and the tufts of the stone pines on the mountains fell into ashes like Dead Sea fruit. The springs were dried, and the great cascade125 of Buet fell to half its volume."
"This cascade; I have never seen it. Is it in the neighbourhood?"
"Of a surety. Monsieur must have passed the rocky ravine that vomits126 the torrent, on his way hither."
"I remember. I will explore it. Camille shall be my guide."
"Never."
"And why?"
"Who may say? The ways of the afflicted129 are not our ways. Only I know that Camille will never drive his flock to pasture near the lip of that dark valley."
"It is possible. Only the good God knows."
But I was to know later on, with a little reeling of the reason also.
"Camille, I want to see the Cascade de Buet."
The hunted eyes of the stricken looked into mine with a piercing glance of fear.
"Monsieur must not," he said, in a low voice.
"And why not?"
"The waters are bad—bad—haunted!"
"I!" The idiot fell upon the grass with a sort of gobbling cry. I thought it the prelude132 to a fit of some sort, and was stepping towards him, when he rose to his feet, waved me off and hurried away down the slope homewards.
A day or two afterwards I joined Camille at midday on the heights where he was pasturing his flocks. He had shifted his ground a little distance westwards, and I could not find him at once. At last I spied him, his back to a rock, his hand dabbled134 for coolness in a little runnel that trickled135 at his side. He looked up and greeted me with a smile. He had conceived an affection for me, this poor lost soul.
"It will go soon," he said, referring to the miniature streamlet. "It is safe in the woods; but to-morrow or next day the sun will lap it up ere it can reach the skirt of the shadow above there. A farewell kiss to you, little stream!"
He bent136 and sipped137 a mouthful of the clear water. He was in a more reasonable state than he had shown for long, though it was now close on the moon's final quarter, a period that should have marked a more general tenor138 of placidity139 in him. The summer solstice, was, however, at hand, and the weather sultry to a degree—as it had been, I did not fail to remember, the year of his seizure140.
"Camille," I said, "why to-day hast thou shifted thy ground a little in the direction of the Buet ravine?"
He sat up at once, with a curious, eager look in his face.
"Monsieur has asked it," he said. "It was to impel141 Monsieur to ask it that I moved. Does Monsieur seek a guide?"
"Wilt thou lead me, Camille?"
"Monsieur, last night I dreamed and one came to me. Was it my father? I know not, I know not. But he put my forehead to his breast, and the evil left it, and I remembered without terror. 'Reveal the secret to the stranger,' he said; 'that he may share thy burden and comfort thee; for he is strong where thou art weak, and the vision shall not scare him.' Monsieur, wilt thou come?"
He leaped to his feet, and I to mine.
"Lead on, Camille. I follow."
He called to the leader of his flock: "Petitjean! stray not, my little one. I shall be back sooner than the daisies close." Then he turned to me again. I noticed a pallid142, desperate look in his face, as though he were strung to great effort; but it was the face of a mindless one still.
"Do you not fear?" he said, in a whisper; and the apple in his throat seemed all choking core.
"I fear nothing," I answered with a smile; yet the still sombreness of the woods found a little tremor143 in my breast.
Monsieur."
He went off through the trees of a sudden, and I had much ado to keep pace with him. He ran as one urged on by a sure sense of doom145, looking neither to right nor left. His mountain instincts had remained with him when memory itself had closed around like a fog, leaving him face to face and isolated146 with his one unconfessed point of terror. Swiftly we made our way, ever slightly climbing, along the rugged128 hillside, and soon broke into country very wild and dismal147. The pastoral character of the scene lessened148 and altogether disappeared. The trees grew matted and grotesquely149 gnarled, huddling150 together in menacing battalions—save where some plunging rock had burst like a shell, forcing a clearing and strewing151 the black moss152 with a jagged wreck153 of splinters. Here no flowers crept for warmth, no sentinel marmot turned his little scut with a whistle of alarm to vanish like a red shadow. All was melancholy154 and silence and the massed defiance155 of ever-impending ruin. Storm, and avalanche, and the bitter snap of frost had wrought156 their havoc157 year by year, till an uncrippled branch was a rare distinction. The very saplings, of stunted159 growth, bore the air of thieves reared in a rookery of crime.
We strode with difficulty in an inhuman160 twilight161 through this great dark quickset of Nature, and had paused a moment where the thronging162 trunks thinned somewhat, when a little mouthing moan came towards us on the crest163 of a ripple158 of wind. My companion stopped on the instant, and clutched my arm, his face twisting with panic.
"The Cascade, Monsieur!" he shook out in a terrified whisper.
"Courage, my friend! It is that we come to seek."
"Ah! My God, yes—it is that! I dare not—I dare not!"
He drew back livid with fear, but I urged him on.
"Remember the dream, Camille!" I cried.
"Yes, yes—it was good. Help me, Monsieur, and I will try—yes, I will try!"
I drew his arm within mine, and together we stumbled on. The undergrowth grew denser165 and more fantastic; the murmur166 filled out, increased and resolved itself into a sound of falling water that ever took shape, and volume, and depth, till its crash shook the ground at our feet. Then in a moment a white blaze of sky came at us through the trunks, and we burst through the fringe of the wood to find ourselves facing the opposite side of a long cleft in the mountain and the blade's edge of a roaring cataract167.
It shot out over the lip of the fall, twenty feet above us, in a curve like a scimitar, passed in one sheet the spot where we stood, and dived into a sunless pool thirty feet below with a thunderous boom. What it may have been in full phases of the stream, I know not; yet even now it was sufficiently168 magnificent to give pause to a dying soul eager to shake off the restless horror of the world. The flat of its broad blade divided the lofty black walls of a deep and savage ravine, on whose jagged shelves some starved clumps169 of rhododendron shook in the wind of the torrent. Far down the narrow gully we could see the passion of water tossing, champed white with the ravening170 of its jaws171, until it took a bend of the cliffs at a leap and rushed from sight.
We stood upon a little platform of coarse grass and bramble, whose fringe dipped and nodded fitfully as the sprinkle caught it. Beyond, the sliding sheet of water looked like a great strap173 of steel, reeled ceaselessly off a whirling drum pivoted174 between the hills. The midday sun shot like a piston175 down the shaft176 of the valley, painting purple spears and angles behind its abutting177 rocks, and hitting full upon the upper curve of the fall; but half-way down the cataract slipped into shadow.
My brain sickened with the endless gliding178 and turmoil179 of descent, and I turned aside to speak to my companion. He was kneeling upon the grass, his eyes fixed180 and staring, his white lips mumbling181 some crippled memory of a prayer. He started and cowered182 down as I touched him on the shoulder.
"I cannot go, Monsieur; I shall die!"
"What next, Camille? I will go alone,"
"My God, Monsieur! the cave under the fall! It is there the horror is."
He pointed183 to a little gap in the fringing bushes with shaking finger. I stole gingerly in the direction he indicated. With every step I took the awful fascination184 of the descending water increased upon me. It seemed hideous185 and abnormal to stand mid-way against a perpendicularly-rushing torrent. Above or below the effect would have been different; but here, to look up was to feel one's feet dragging towards the unseen—to look down and pass from vision of the lip of the fall was to become the waif of a force that was unaccountable.
I had a battle with my nerves, and triumphed. As I approached the opening in the brambles I became conscious of a certain relief. At a little distance the cataract had seemed to actually wash in its descent the edge of the platform. Now I found it to be further away than I had imagined, the ground dropping in a sharp slope to a sort of rocky buttress60 which lay obliquely186 on the slant187 of the ravine, and was the true margin188 of the torrent. Before I essayed the descent, I glanced back at my companion. He was kneeling where I had left him, his hands pressed to his face, his features hidden; but looking back once again, when I had with infinite caution accomplished189 the downward climb, I saw that he had crept to the edge of the slope, and was watching me with wide, terrified eyes. I waved my hand to him and turned to the wonderful vision of water that now passed almost within reach of my arm. I stood near the point where the whole glassy breadth glided190 at once from sunlight into shadow. It fell silently, without a break, for only its feet far below trod the thunder.
Now, as I peered about, I noticed a little cleft in the rocky margin, a minute's climb above me. I was attracted to this by an appearance of smoke or steam that incessantly191 emerged from it, as though some witch's caldron were simmering alongside the fall. Spray it might be, or the condensing of water splashed on the granite192; but of this I might not be sure. Therefore I determined193 to investigate, and straightway began climbing the rocks—with my heart in my mouth, it must be confessed, for the foothold was undesirable194 and the way perilous195. And all the time I was conscious that the white face of Camille watched me from above. As I reached the cleft I fancied I heard a queer sort of gasping196 sob197 issue from his lips, but to this I could give no heed198 in the sudden wonder that broke upon me. For, lo! it appeared that the cleft led straight to a narrow platform or ledge113 of rock right underneath199 the fall itself, but extending how far I could not see, by reason of the steam that filled the passage, and for which I was unable to account. Footing it carefully and groping my way, I set step in the little water-curtained chamber and advanced a pace or two. Suddenly, light grew about me, and a beautiful rose of fire appeared on the wall of the passage in the midst of what seemed a vitrified scoop200 in the rock.
Marvelling201, I put out my hand to touch it, and fell back on the narrow floor with a scream of anguish202. An inch farther, and these lines had not been written. As it was, the fall caught me by the fingers with the suck of a cat-fish, and it was only a gigantic wrench203 that saved me from slipping off the ledge. The jerk brought my head against the rock with a stunning204 blow, and for some moments I lay dizzy and confused, daring hardly to breathe, and conscious only of a burning and blistering205 agony in my right hand.
At length I summoned courage to gather my limbs together and crawl out the way I had entered. The distance was but a few paces, yet to traverse these seemed an interminable nightmare of swaying and stumbling. I know only one other occasion upon which the liberal atmosphere of the open earth seemed sweeter to my senses when I reached it than it did on this.
I tumbled somehow through the cleft, and sat down, shaking, upon the grass of the slope beyond; but, happening to throw myself backwards206 in the reeling faintness induced by my fright and the pain of my head, my eyes encountered a sight that woke me at once to full activity.
Balanced upon the very verge207 of the slope, his face and neck craned forward, his jaw172 dropped, a sick, tranced look upon his features, stood Camille. I saw him topple, and shouted to him; but before my voice was well out, he swayed, collapsed208, and came down with a running thud that shook the ground. Once he wheeled over, like a shot rabbit, and, bounding thwack with his head against a flat boulder7 not a dozen yards from me, lay stunned209 and motionless.
I scrambled210 to him, quaking all over. His breath came quick, and a spirt of blood jerked from a sliced cut in his forehead at every pump of his heart.
I kicked out a wad of cool moist turf, and clapped it in a pad over the wound, my handkerchief under. For his body, he was shaken and bruised211, but otherwise not seriously hurt.
I have no explanation to offer. Only I know that, as a fall will set a long-stopped watch pulsing again, the blow here seemed to have restored the misplaced intellect to its normal balance.
"Monsieur," he whispered, "the terror has passed."
"God be thanked! Camille," I answered, much moved.
"A little while," he said, "and I shall know. The punishment was just."
"What punishment, my poor Camille?"
Monsieur, lift me up; I am strong."
I winced216 as I complied. The palm of my hand was scorched217 and blistered218 in a dozen places. He noticed at once, and kissed and fondled the wounded limb as softly as a woman might.
"Ah, the poor hand!" he murmured. "Monsieur has touched the disc of fire."
"Camille," I whispered, "what is it?"
"Monsieur shall know—ah! yes, he shall know; but not now. Monsieur, my mother."
"Thou art right, good son."
I bound up his bruised forehead and my own burnt hand as well as I was able, and helped him to his feet. He stood upon them staggering; but in a minute could essay to stumble on the homeward journey with assistance. It was a long and toilsome progress; but in time we accomplished it. Often we had to sit down in the blasted woods and rest awhile; often moisten our parched mouths at the runnels of snow-water that thridded the undergrowth. The shadows were slanting219 eastwards220 as we reached the clearing we had quitted some hours earlier, and the goats had disappeared. Petitjean was leading his charges homewards in default of a human commander, and presently we overtook them browsingly loitering and desirous of definite instructions.
I pass over Camille's meeting with his mother, and the wonder, and fear, and pity of it all. Our hurts were attended to, and the battery of questions met with the best armour221 of tact83 at command. For myself, I said that I had scorched my hand against a red-hot rock, which was strictly222 true; for Camille, that it were wisest to take no early advantage of the reason that God had restored to him. She was voluble, tearful, half-hysterical with joy and the ecstasy223 of gratitude224.
All night long I heard her stirring and sobbing225 softly outside his door, for I slept little, owing to pain and the wonder in my mind. But towards morning I dozed226, and my dreams were feverish227 and full of terror.
The next day Camille kept his bed and I my room. By this I at least escaped the first onset228 of local curiosity, for the villagers naturally made of Camille's restoration a nine-days' wonder. But towards evening Madame Barbière brought a message from him that he would like to see Monsieur alone, if Monsieur would condescend to visit him in his room. I went at once, and found him, as Haydon found Keats, lying in a white bed, hectic229, and on his back. He greeted me with a smile peculiarly sweet and restful.
"Does Monsieur wish to know?" he said in a low voice.
"If it will not hurt thee, Camille."
"Not now—not now; the good God has made me sound. I remember, and am not terrified."
I closed the door and took a seat by his bedside. There, with my hand shading my eyes from the level glory of sunset that flamed into the room, I listened to the strange tale of Camille's seizure.
"Once, Monsieur, I lived in myself and was exultant230 with a loneliness of fancied knowledge. My youth was my excuse; but God could not pardon me all. I read where I could find books, and chance put an evil choice in my way, for I learned to sneer231 at His name, His heaven, His hell. Each man has his god in self-will, I thought in my pride, and through it alone he accepts the responsibility of life and death. He is his own curse or blessing232 here and hereafter, inheriting no sin and earning no doom but such as he himself inflicts233 upon himself. I interpret this from the world about me, and knowing it, I have no fear and own no tyrant234 but my own passions. Monsieur, it was through fear the most terrible that God asserted Himself to me."
The light was fading in the west, and a lance of shadow fell upon the white bed, as though the hushed day were putting a finger to its lips as it withdrew.
"I was no coward then, Monsieur—that at least I may say. I lived among the mountains, and on their ledges235 the feet of my own goats were not surer. Often, in summer, I spent the night among the woods and hills, reading in them the story of the ages, and exploring, exploring till my feet were wearier than my brain. Strangers came from far to see the great cascade; but none but I—and you, too, Monsieur, now—know the track through the thicket236 that leads to the cave under the waters. I found it by chance, and, like you, was scorched by the fire, though not badly."
"Camille—the cause?"
"Monsieur, I will tell you a wonderful thing. The falling waters there make a monstrous burning glass, when the hot sun is upon them, which has melted the rock behind like wax."
"Can that be so?"
"It is true—dear Jesus, I have fearful reason to know it."
He half rose on his elbow, his face, crossed by the bandage, grey as stone in the gathering237 dusk. Hereafter he spoke in an awed13 whisper.
"When the knowledge broke upon me, I grew great to myself in the possession of a wonderful secret. Day after day I visited the cave and examined this phenomenon—and yet another more marvellous in its connection with the first. The huge lens was a simple accident of curved rocks and convex water, planed smooth as crystal. In other than a droughty summer it would probably not exist; the spouting238 torrent would overwhelm it—but I know not. Was not this astonishing enough? Yet Nature had worked a second miracle to mock in anticipation239 the self-sufficient plagiarism240 of little man. I noticed that the rays of the sun concentrated in the lens only during the half-hour of the orb's apparent crossing of the ravine. Then the light smote241 upon a strange curved little fan of water, that spouted242 from a high crevice243 at the mouth of the shallow vitrified tunnel, and devoured244 it, and played upon the rocks behind, that hissed245 and sputtered246 like pitch, and the place was blind with steam. But when the tooth of fire was withdrawn247, the tiny inner cascade fell again and wrought coolness with its sprinkling.
"I did not discover this all at once, for at first fright took me, and it was enough to watch for the moment of the light's appearance and then flee with a little laughter. But one day I ventured back into the cave after the sun had crossed the valley, and the steam had died away, and the rock cooled behind the miniature cascade.
"I looked through the lens, and it seemed full of a great white light that blazed into my eyes, so that I fell back through the inner fan of water and was well soused by it; but my sight presently recovering, I stood forward in the scoop of rock admiring the dainty hollow curve the fan took in its fall. By-and-by I became aware that I was looking out through a smaller lens upon the great one, and that strange whirling mists seemed to be sweeping249 across a huge disc, within touch of my hand almost.
"It was long before I grasped the meaning of this; but, in a flash, it came upon me. The great lens formed the object glass, the small, the eyeglass, of a natural telescope of tremendous power, that drew the high summer clouds down within seeming touch and opened out the heavens before my staring eyes.
"Monsieur, when this dawned upon me I was wild. That so astonishing a discovery should have been reserved for a poor ignorant Swiss peasant filled me with pride wicked in proportion with its absence of gratitude to the mighty250 dispenser of good. I came even to think my individuality part of the wonder and necessary to its existence. 'Were it not for my courage and enterprise,' I cried, 'this phenomenon would have remained a secret of the Nature that gave birth to it. She yields her treasures to such only as fear not.'
"I had read in a book of Huyghens, Guinand, Newton, Herschel—the great high-priests of science who had striven through patient years to read the hieroglyphics251 of the heavens. 'The wise imbeciles,' I thought. 'They toiled252 and died, and Nature held no mirror up to them. For me, the poor Camille, she has worked in secret while they grew old and passed unsatisfied.'
"Brilliant projects of astronomy whirled in my brain. The evening of my last discovery I remained out on the hills, and entered the cave as it grew dusk. A feeling of awe12 surged in me as dark fell over the valley, and the first stars glistened faintly. I dipped under the fan of water and took my stand in the hollow behind it. There was no moon, but my telescope was inclined, as it were, at a generous angle, and a section of the firmament253 was open before me. My heart beat fast as I looked through the lens.
"Shall I tell you what I saw then and many nights after? Rings and crosses in the heavens of golden mist, spangled, as it seemed, with jewels; stars as big as cart-wheels, twinkling points no longer, but round, like great bosses of molten fire; things shadowy, luminous254, of strange colours and stranger forms, that seemed to brush the waters as they passed, but were in reality vast distances away.
"Sometimes the thrust of wind up the ravine would produce a tremulous motion in the image at the focus of the mirror; but this was seldom. For the most part the wonderful lenses presented a steady curvature, not flawless, but of magnificent capacity.
"Now it flashed upon me that, when the moon was at the full, she would top the valley in the direct path of my telescope's range of view. At the thought I grew exultant. I—I, little Camille, should first read aright the history of this strange satellite. The instrument that could give shape to the stars would interpret to me the composition of that lonely orb as clearly as though I stood upon her surface.
"As the time of her fulness drew near I grew feverish with excitement. I was sickening, as it were, to my madness, for never more should I look upon her willingly, with eyes either speculative or insane."
At this point Camille broke off for a little space, and lay back on his pillow. When he spoke again it was out of the darkness, with his face turned to the wall.
"Monsieur, I cannot dwell upon it—I must hasten. We have no right to peer beyond the boundary God has drawn248 for us. I saw His hell—I saw His hell, I tell you. It is peopled with the damned—silent, horrible, distorted in the midst of ashes and desolation. It was a memory that, like the snake of Aaron, devoured all others till yesterday—till yesterday, by Christ's mercy."
* * * * *
It seemed to me, as the days wore on, that Camille had but recovered his reason at the expense of his life; that the long rest deemed necessary for him after his bitter period of brain exhaustion255 might in the end prove an everlasting256 one. Possibly the blow to his head had, in expelling the seven devils, wounded beyond cure the vital function that had fostered them. He lay white, patient, and sweet-tempered to all, but moved by no inclination257 to rise and re-assume the many-coloured garment of life.
His description of the dreadful desert in the sky I looked upon, merely, as an abiding258 memory of the brain phantasm that had finally overthrown259 a reason, already tottering260 under the tremendous excitement induced by his discovery of the lenses, and the magnified images they had presented to him. That there was truth in the asserted fact of the existence of these, my own experience convinced me; and curiosity as to this alone impelled261 me to the determination of investigating further, when my hand should be sufficiently recovered to act as no hindrance262 to me in forcing my way once more through the dense164 woods that bounded the waterfall. Moreover, the dispassionate enquiry of a mind less sensitive to impressions might, in the result, do more towards restoring the warped imagination of my friend to its normal state than any amount of spoken scepticism.
To Camille I said nothing of my resolve; but waited on, chafing263 at the slow healing of my wounds. In the meantime the period of the full moon approached, and I decided264, at whatever cost, to make the venture on the evening she topped her orbit, if circumstances at the worst should prevent my doing so sooner—and thus it turned out.
On the eve of my enterprise, the first fair spring of rain in a drought of two months fell, to my disappointment, among the hills; for I feared an increase of the torrent and the effacement265 of the mighty lens. I set off, however, on the afternoon of the following day, in hot sunshine, mentally prognosticating a favourable266 termination to my expedition, and telling Madame Barbière not to expect me back till late.
In leisurely267 fashion I made my way along the track we had previously268 traversed, risking no divergence269 through overhaste, and carefully examining all landmarks270 before deciding on any direction. Thus slowly proceeding271, I had the good fortune to come within sound of the cataract as the sun was sinking behind the mountain ridges to my front; and presently emerged from the woods at the very spot we had struck in our former journey together.
A chilly twilight reigned272 in the ravine, and the noise that came up from the ruin of the torrent seemed doubly accented by reason of it. The sound of water moving in darkness has always conveyed to me an impression of something horrible and deadly, be it nothing of more moment than the drip and hollow tinkle273 of a gutter274 pipe. But the crash in this echoing gorge was appalling275 indeed.
For some moments I stood on the brink276 of the slope, looking across at the great knife of the fall, with a little shiver of fear. Then I shook myself, laughed, and without further ado took my courage in hand, and scrambled down the declivity277 and up again towards the cleft in the rocks.
Here the chill of heart gripped me again—the watery278 sliding tunnel looked so evil in the contracting gloom. A false step in that humid chamber, and my bones would pound and crackle on the rocks forty feet below. It must be gone through with now, however; and, taking a long breath, I set foot in the passage under the curving downpour that seemed taut279 as an arched muscle.
Reaching the burnt recess280, a few moments sufficed to restore my self-confidence; and without further hesitation281 I dived under the inner little fan-shaped fall—which was there, indeed, as Camille had described it—and recovered my balance with pulses drumming thicker than I could have desired.
In a moment I became conscious that some great power was before me. Across a vast, irregular disc filled with the ashy whiteness of the outer twilight, strange, unaccountable forms, misty282 and undefined, passed, and repassed, and vanished. Cirrus they might have been, or the shadows flung by homing flights of birds; but of this I could not be certain. As the dusk deepened they showed no more, and presently I gazed only into a violet fathomless darkness.
My own excitement now was great; and I found some difficulty in keeping it under control. But for the moment, it seemed to me, I pined greatly for free commune with the liberal atmosphere of earth. Therefore, I dipped under the little fall and made my cautious way to the margin of the cataract.
I was surprised to find for how long a time the phenomenon had absorbed me. The moon was already high in the heavens, and making towards the ravine with rapid steps. Far below, the tumbling waters flashed in her rays, and on all sides great tiers of solemn, trees stood up at attention to salute283 her.
When her disc silvered the inner rim40 of the slope I had descended284, I returned to my post of observation with tingling285 nerves. The field of the great object lens was already suffused286 with the radiance of her approach.
Suddenly my pupils shrank before the apparition287 of a ghastly grey light, and all in a moment I was face to face with a segment of desolation more horrible than any desert. Monstrous growths of leprosy that had bubbled up and stiffened288; fields of ashen289 slime—the sloughing290 of a world of corruption291; hills of demon292, fungus293 swollen294 with the fatness of putrefaction295; and, in the midst of all, dim, convulsed shapes wallowing, protruding296, or stumbling aimlessly onwards, till they sank and disappeared.
Madame Barbière threw up her hands when she let me in at the door. My appearance, no doubt, was ghastly. I knew not the hour nor the lapse98 of time covered by my wanderings about the hills, my face hidden in my palms, a drawn feeling about my heart, my lips muttering—muttering fragments of prayers, and my throat jerking with horrible laughter.
For hours I lay face downwards on my bed.
"Monsieur has seen it?"
"I have seen it."
"God, in His mercy, pity thee! And me—oh, Camille, and me too!"
"He has held out His white hand to me. I go, when I go, with a safe conduct."
He went before the week was out. The drought had broken and for five days the thunder crashed and the wild rain swept the mountains. On the morning of the sixth a drenched298 shepherd reported in the village that a landslip had choked the fall of Buet, and completely altered its shape. Madame Barbière broke into the room where I was sitting with Camille, big with the news. She little guessed how it affected299 her listeners.
"The bon Dieu" said Camille, when she had gone, "has thundered His curse on Nature for revealing His secrets. I, who have penetrated300 into the forbidden, must perish."
"And I, Camille?"
He turned to me with a melancholy sweet smile, and answered, paraphrasing301 the dying words of certain noble lips,—
"Be good, Monsieur; be good."
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收听单词发音
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1
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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3
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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4
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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5
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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6
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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8
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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10
thawed
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| 解冻 | |
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thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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12
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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13
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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15
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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furrows
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| n.犁沟( furrow的名词复数 )；（脸上的）皱纹v.犁田，开沟( furrow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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17
slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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18
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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dreariness
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| 沉寂，可怕，凄凉 | |
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21
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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24
writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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25
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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26
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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27
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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fathomless
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| a.深不可测的 | |
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32
orb
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| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
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retrospect
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| n.回顾，追溯；v.回顾，回想，追溯 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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35
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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36
translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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38
icebergs
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| n.冰山，流冰( iceberg的名词复数 ) | |
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39
prosaically
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| adv.无聊地；乏味地；散文式地；平凡地 | |
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40
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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41
gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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42
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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43
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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44
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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45
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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46
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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47
withheld
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| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
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48
ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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49
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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50
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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51
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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52
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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53
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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54
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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55
lofts
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| 阁楼( loft的名词复数 )； （由工厂等改建的）套房； 上层楼面； 房间的越层 | |
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56
zinc
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| n.锌；vt.在...上镀锌 | |
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57
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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58
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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60
buttress
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| n.支撑物；v.支持 | |
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61
buttressed
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| v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
avalanche
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| n.雪崩，大量涌来 | |
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63
avalanches
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| n.雪崩( avalanche的名词复数 ) | |
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64
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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65
mowing
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| n.割草，一次收割量，牧草地v.刈，割( mow的现在分词 ) | |
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66
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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67
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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68
buttresses
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| n.扶壁，扶垛( buttress的名词复数 )v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的第三人称单数 ) | |
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69
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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70
affronting
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| v.勇敢地面对( affront的现在分词 )；相遇 | |
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71
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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72
condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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73
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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74
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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75
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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77
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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78
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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79
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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80
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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81
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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82
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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83
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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84
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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85
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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87
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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88
industriously
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89
conning
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| v.诈骗，哄骗( con的现在分词 )；指挥操舵( conn的现在分词 ) | |
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90
interrogates
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| n.询问( interrogate的名词复数 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询v.询问( interrogate的第三人称单数 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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91
abstruse
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| adj.深奥的，难解的 | |
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92
complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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93
desultorily
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| adv. 杂乱无章地, 散漫地 | |
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94
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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95
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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96
conjectural
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| adj.推测的 | |
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97
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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98
lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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99
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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100
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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101
thong
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| n.皮带；皮鞭；v.装皮带 | |
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102
insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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103
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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104
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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105
derangement
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| n.精神错乱 | |
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106
waned
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| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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107
virulent
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| adj.有毒的，有恶意的，充满敌意的 | |
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108
culminated
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| v.达到极点( culminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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110
lessening
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| 减轻，减少，变小 | |
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111
abeyance
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| n.搁置，缓办，中止，产权未定 | |
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112
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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113
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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114
gape
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| v.张口，打呵欠，目瞪口呆地凝视 | |
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115
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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116
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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117
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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118
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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119
engrossing
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| adj.使人全神贯注的，引人入胜的v.使全神贯注( engross的现在分词 ) | |
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120
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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121
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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122
propensities
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| n.倾向，习性( propensity的名词复数 ) | |
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123
crevasse
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| n. 裂缝，破口；v.使有裂缝 | |
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124
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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125
cascade
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| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
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126
vomits
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| 呕吐物( vomit的名词复数 ) | |
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127
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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128
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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129
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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130
malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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131
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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132
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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133
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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134
dabbled
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| v.涉猎( dabble的过去式和过去分词 )；涉足；浅尝；少量投资 | |
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135
trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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136
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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137
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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138
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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139
placidity
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| n.平静，安静，温和 | |
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140
seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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141
impel
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| v.推动；激励，迫使 | |
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142
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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143
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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144
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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145
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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146
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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147
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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148
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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149
grotesquely
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| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
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150
huddling
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| n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
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151
strewing
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| v.撒在…上( strew的现在分词 )；散落于；点缀；撒满 | |
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152
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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153
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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154
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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155
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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156
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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157
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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158
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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159
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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160
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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161
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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162
thronging
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的现在分词 ) | |
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163
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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164
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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165
denser
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| adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
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166
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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167
cataract
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| n.大瀑布，奔流，洪水，白内障 | |
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168
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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169
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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170
ravening
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| a.贪婪而饥饿的 | |
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171
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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172
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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173
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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174
pivoted
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| adj.转动的，回转的，装在枢轴上的v.（似）在枢轴上转动( pivot的过去式和过去分词 )；把…放在枢轴上；以…为核心，围绕（主旨）展开 | |
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175
piston
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| n.活塞 | |
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176
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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177
abutting
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| adj.邻接的v.（与…）邻接( abut的现在分词 )；（与…）毗连；接触；倚靠 | |
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178
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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179
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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180
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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181
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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182
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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183
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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184
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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185
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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186
obliquely
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| adv.斜； 倾斜； 间接； 不光明正大 | |
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187
slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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188
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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189
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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190
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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191
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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192
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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193
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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194
undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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195
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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196
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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197
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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198
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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199
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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200
scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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201
marvelling
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的现在分词 ) | |
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202
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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203
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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204
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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205
blistering
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| adj.酷热的；猛烈的；使起疱的；可恶的v.起水疱；起气泡；使受暴晒n.[涂料] 起泡 | |
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206
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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207
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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208
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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209
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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210
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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211
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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212
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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213
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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214
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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215
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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216
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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217
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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218
blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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219
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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220
eastwards
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| adj.向东方（的），朝东（的）；n.向东的方向 | |
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221
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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222
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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223
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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224
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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225
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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226
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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227
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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228
onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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229
hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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230
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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231
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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232
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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233
inflicts
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的第三人称单数 ) | |
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234
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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235
ledges
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| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
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236
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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237
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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238
spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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239
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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240
plagiarism
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| n.剽窃，抄袭 | |
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241
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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242
spouted
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| adj.装有嘴的v.（指液体）喷出( spout的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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243
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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244
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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245
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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246
sputtered
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| v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的过去式和过去分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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247
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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248
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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249
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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250
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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251
hieroglyphics
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| n.pl.象形文字 | |
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252
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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253
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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254
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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255
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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256
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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257
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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258
abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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259
overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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260
tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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261
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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262
hindrance
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| n.妨碍，障碍 | |
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263
chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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264
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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265
effacement
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| n.抹消，抹杀 | |
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266
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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267
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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268
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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269
divergence
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| n.分歧，岔开 | |
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270
landmarks
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| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
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271
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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272
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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273
tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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274
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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275
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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276
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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277
declivity
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| n.下坡，倾斜面 | |
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278
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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279
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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280
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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281
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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282
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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283
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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284
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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285
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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286
suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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287
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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288
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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289
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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290
sloughing
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| v.使蜕下或脱落( slough的现在分词 )；舍弃；除掉；摒弃 | |
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291
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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292
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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293
fungus
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| n.真菌，真菌类植物 | |
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294
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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295
putrefaction
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| n.腐坏，腐败 | |
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296
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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297
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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298
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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299
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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300
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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301
paraphrasing
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| v.释义，意译( paraphrase的现在分词 ) | |
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