This is the story of William Tyrwhitt, who went to King's Cobb for rest and change, and, with the latter, at least, was so far accommodated as for a time to get beyond himself and into regions foreign to his experiences or his desires. And for this condition of his I hold myself something responsible, inasmuch as it was my inquisitiveness1 was the means of inducing him to an exploration, of which the result, with its measure of weirdness2, was for him alone. But, it seems, I was appointed an agent of the unexplainable without my knowledge, and it was simply my misfortune to find my first unwitting commission in the selling of a friend.
I was for a few days, about the end of a particular July, lodged4 in that little old seaboard town of Dorset that is called King's Cobb. Thither5 there came to me one morning a letter from William Tyrwhitt, the polemical journalist (a queer fish, like the cuttle, with an ink-bag for the confusion of enemies), complaining that he was fagged and used up, and desiring me to say that nowhere could complete rest be obtained as in King's Cobb.
I wrote and assured him on this point. The town, I said, lay wrapped in the hills as in blankets, its head only, winking6 a sleepy eye, projecting from the top of the broad steep gully in which it was stretched at ease. Thither few came to the droning coast; and such as did, looked up at the High Street baking in the sun, and, thinking of Jacob's ladder, composed them to slumber7 upon the sand and left the climbing to the angels. Here, I said, the air and the sea were so still that one could hear the oysters9 snoring in their beds; and the little frizzle of surf on the beach was like to the sound to dreaming ears of bacon frying in the kitchens of the blest.
William Tyrwhitt came, and I met him at the station, six or seven miles away. He was all strained and springless, like a broken child's toy—"not like that William who, with lance in rest, shot through the lists in Fleet Street." A disputative galley-puller could have triumphed over him morally; a child physically11.
The drive in the inn brake, by undulating roads and scented12 valleys, shamed his cheek to a little flush of self-assertion.
"I will sleep under the vines," he said, "and the grapes shall drop into my mouth."
"Beware," I answered, "lest in King's Cobb your repose13 should be everlasting14. The air of that hamlet has matured like old port in the bin8 of its hills, till to drink of it is to swoon."
We alighted at the crown of the High Street, purposing to descend15 on foot the remaining distance to the shore.
"Behold16," I exclaimed, "how the gulls17 float in the shimmer18, like ashes tossed aloft by the white draught19 of a fire! Behold these ancient buildings nodding to the everlasting lullaby of the bay waters! The cliffs are black with the heat apoplexy; the lobster20 is drawn21 scarlet22 to the surface. You shall be like an addled23 egg put into an incubator."
"So," he said, "I shall rest and not hatch. The very thought is like sweet oil on a burn."
He stayed with me a week, and his body waxed wondrous24 round and rosy25, while his eye acquired a foolish and vacant expression. So it was with me. We rolled together, by shore and by road of this sluggard26 place, like spent billiard balls; and if by chance we cannoned27, we swerved28 sleepily apart, until, perhaps, one would fall into a pocket of the sand, and the other bring up against a cushion of sea-wall.
Yet, for all its enervating29 atmosphere, King's Cobb has its fine traditions of a sturdy independence, and a slashing31 history withal; and its aspect is as picturesque32 as that of an opera bouffe fishing-harbour. Then, too, its High Street, as well as its meandering33 rivulets34 of low streets, is rich in buildings, venerable and antique.
We took an irresponsible, smiling pleasure in noting these advantages—particularly after lunch; and sometimes, where an old house was empty, we would go over it, and stare at beams and chimneypieces and hear the haunted tale of its fortunes, with a faint half-memory in our breasts of that one-time bugbear we had known as "copy." But though more than once a flaccid instinct would move us to have out our pencils, we would only end by bunging our foolish mouths with them, as if they were cigarettes, and then vaguely35 wondering at them for that, being pencils, they would not draw.
By then we were so sinewless and demoralized that we could hear in the distant strains of the European Concert nothing but an orchestra of sweet sounds, and would have given ourselves away in any situation with a pound of tea. Therefore, perhaps, it was well for us that, a peremptory36 summons to town reaching me after seven days of comradeship with William, I must make shift to collect my faculties37 with my effects, and return to the more bracing38 climate of Fleet Street.
And here, you will note, begins the story of William Tyrwhitt, who would linger yet a few days in that hanging garden of the south coast, and who would pull himself together and collect matter for "copy."
I was to leave in the afternoon, and the morning we spent in aimlessly rambling40 about the town. Towards mid-day, a slight shower drove us to shelter under the green verandah of a house, standing41 up from the lower fall of the High Street, that we had often observed in our wanderings. This house—or rather houses, for it was a block of two—was very tall and odd-looking, being all built of clean squares of a whitish granite42; and the double porch in the middle base—led up to by side-going steps behind thin iron railings—roofed with green-painted zinc43. In some of the windows were jalousies, but the general aspect of the exterior44 was gaunt and rigid45; and the whole block bore a dismal46, deserted47 look, as if it had not been lived in for years.
Now we had taken refuge in the porch of that half that lay uppermost on the slope; and here we noticed that, at a late date, the building was seemingly in process of repair, painters' pots and brushes lying on a window-sill, and a pair of steps showing within through the glass.
"They have gone to dinner," said I. "Supposing we seize the opportunity to explore?"
We pushed at the door; it yielded. We entered, shut ourselves in, and paused to the sound of our own footsteps echoing and laughing from corners and high places. On the ground floor were two or three good-sized rooms with modern grates, but cornices, chimney-pieces, embrasures finely Jacobean. There were innumerable under-stair and over-head cupboards, too, and pantries, and closets, and passages going off darkly into the unknown.
We clomb the stairway—to the first floor—to the second. Here was all pure Jacobean; but the walls were crumbling48, the paper peeling, the windows dim and foul49 with dirt.
I have never known a place with such echoes. They shook from a footstep like nuts rattling50 out of a bag; a mouse behind the skirting led a whole camp-following of them; to ask a question was, as in that other House, to awaken51 the derisive52 shouts of an Opposition53. Yet, in the intervals54 of silence, there fell a deadliness of quiet that was quite appalling55 by force of contrast.
"Let us go down," I said. "I am feeling creepy."
I followed him—a little reluctantly, I confess. Gloom and shadow had fallen upon the town, and this old deserted hulk of an abode was ghostly to a degree. There was no film of dust on its every shelf or sill that did not seem to me to bear the impress of some phantom58 finger feeling its way along. A glint of stealthy eyes would look from dark uncertain corners; a thin evil vapour appear to rise through the cracks of the boards from the unvisited cellars in the basement.
And here, too, we came suddenly upon an eccentricity59 of out-building that wrought60 upon our souls with wonder. For, penetrating61 to the rear through what might have been a cloak-closet or butler's pantry, we found a supplementary62 wing, or rather tail of rooms, loosely knocked together, to proceed from the back, forming a sort of skilling to the main building. These rooms led direct into one another, and, consisting of little more than timber and plaster, were in a woeful state of dilapidation63. Everywhere the laths grinned through torn gaps in the ceilings and walls; everywhere the latter were blotched and mildewed64 with damp, and the floor-boards rotting in their tracks. Fallen mortar65, rusty67 tins, yellow teeth of glass, whitened soot—all the decay and rubbish of a generation of neglect littered the place and filled it with an acrid68 odour. From one of the rooms we looked forth69 through a little discoloured window upon a patch of forlorn weedy garden, where the very cats glowered70 in a depression that no surfeit71 of mice could assuage72.
We went on, our nervous feet apologetic to the grit73 they crunched74; and, when we were come to near the end of this dreary75 annexe, turned off to the left into a short gloom of passage that led to a closed door.
Pushing this open, we found a drop of some half-dozen steps, and, going gingerly down these, stopped with a common exclamation76 of surprise on our lips.
Some twenty feet long by twelve wide—there it all was, from the deck transoms above, to the side lockers78 and great curved window, sloping outwards79 to the floor and glazed80 with little panes81 in galleries, that filled the whole end of the room. Thereout we looked, over the degraded garden, to the lower quarters of the town—as if, indeed, we were perched high up on waves—and even to a segment of the broad bay that swept by them.
But the room itself! What phantasy of old sea-dog or master-mariner had conceived it? What palsied spirit, condemned82 to rust66 in inactivity, had found solace83 in this burlesque84 of shipcraft? To renew the past in such a fixture85, to work oneself up to the old glow of flight and action, and then, while one stamped and rocked maniacally86, to feel the refusal of so much as a timber to respond to one's fervour of animation87! It was a grotesque88 picture.
Now, this cherished chamber89 had shared the fate of the rest. The paint and gilding90 were all cracked and blistered91 away; much of the glass of the stern-frame was gone or hung loose in its sashes; the elaborately carved lockers mouldered92 on the walls.
These were but dummies93 when we came to examine them—mere slabs94 attached to the brickwork, and decaying with it.
"There should be a case-bottle and rummers in one, at least," said
William Tyrwhitt.
"There are, sir, at your service," said a voice behind us.
We started and turned.
It had been such a little strained voice that it was with something like astonishment95 I looked upon the speaker. Whence he had issued I could not guess; but there he stood behind us, nodding and smiling—a squab, thick-set old fellow with a great bald head, and, for all the hair on his face, a tuft like a teasel sprouting96 from his under lip.
He was in his shirt-sleeves, without coat or vest; and I noticed that his dirty lawn was oddly plaited in front, and that about his ample paunch was buckled97 a broad belt of leather. Greased hip-boots encased his lower limbs, and the heels of these were drawn together as he bowed.
William Tyrwhitt—a master of nervous English—muttered "Great Scott!" under his breath.
"Permit me," said the stranger—and he held out to us a tin pannikin (produced from Heaven knows where) that swam with fragrance98.
I shook my head. William Tyrwhitt, that fated man, did otherwise. He accepted the vessel99 and drained it.
"It smacks100 of all Castille," he said, handing it back with a sigh of ecstasy101. "Who the devil are you, sir?"
The stranger gave a little crow.
"Peregrine Iron, sir, at your service—Captain Penegrine Iron, of the Raven102 sloop103 amongst others. You are very welcome to the run of my poor abode."
"Yours?" I murmured in confusion. "We owe you a thousand apologies."
"Not at all," he said, addressing all his courtesy to William. Me, since my rejection105 of his beaker, he took pains to ignore.
"Not at all," he said. "Your intrusion was quite natural under the circumstances. I take a pleasure in being your cicerone. This cabin (he waved his hand pompously)—a fancy of mine, sir, a fancy of mine. The actual material of the latest of my commands brought hither and adapted to the exigencies106 of shore life. It enables me to live eternally in the past—a most satisfying illusion. Come to-night and have a pipe and a glass with me."
I thought William Tyrwhitt mad.
"I will come, by all means," he said.
The stranger bowed us out of the room.
"That is right," he exclaimed. "You will find me here. Good-bye for the present."
"William," I said, "did you happen to look back as we left the cabin?"
"No."
"I did."
"Well?"
"There was no stranger there at all. The place was empty."
"Well?"
"You will not go to-night?"
"You bet I do."
I shrugged108 my shoulders. We walked on a little way in silence. Suddenly my companion turned on me, a most truculent109 expression on his face.
"For an independent thinker," he said, "you are rather a pusillanimous110 jackass. A man of your convictions to shy at a shadow! Fie, sir, fie! What if the room were empty? The place was full enough of traps to permit of Captain Iron's immediate111 withdrawal112."
That afternoon I went back to town, and left the offensive William to his fate.
It found him at once.
The very day following that of my retreat, I was polishing phrases by gaslight in the dull sitting-room115 of my lodgings116 in the Lambeth Road, when he staggered in upon me. His face was like a sheep's, white and vacant; his hands had caught a trick of groping blindly along the backs of chairs.
"You have obtained your 'copy'?" I said.
I made him out to murmur104 "yes" in a shaking under-voice. He was so patently nervous that I put him in a chair and poured him out a wine-glassful of London brandy. This generally is a powerful emetic117, but it had no more effect upon him than water. Then I was about to lower the gas, to save his eyes, but he stopped me with a thin shriek118.
"Light, light!" he whispered. "It cannot be too light for me!"
"Now, William Tyrwhitt," I said, by-and-by, watchful119 of him, and marking a faint effusion of colour soak to his cheek, "you would not accept my warning, and you were extremely rude to me. Therefore you have had an experience—"
"An awful one," he murmured.
"An awful one, no doubt; and to obtain surcease of the haunting memory of it, you must confide120 its processes to me. But, first, I must put it to you, which is the more pusillanimous—to refuse to submit one's manliness121 to the tyranny of the unlawful, or to rush into situations you have not the nerve to adapt yourself to?"
"I could not foresee, I could not foresee."
"Neither could I. And that was my very reason for declining the invitation. Now proceed."
It was long before he could. But presently he essayed, and gathered voice with the advance of his narrative122, and even unconsciously threw it into something the form of "copy." And here it is as he murmured it, but with a gasp123 for every full-stop.
"I confess I was so far moved by the tone of your protest as, after your departure, to make some cautious inquiries124 about the house we had visited. I could discover nothing to satisfy my curiosity. It was known to have been untenanted for a great number of years; but as to who was the landlord, whether Captain Iron or another, no one could inform me; and the agent for the property was of the adjacent town where you met me. I was not fortunate, indeed, in finding that any one even knew of the oddly appointed room; but considering that, owing to the time the house had remained vacant, the existence of this eccentricity could be a tradition only with some casual few, my failure did not strike me as being at all bodeful. On the contrary, it only whetted125 my desire to investigate further in person, and penetrate126 to the heart of a very captivating little mystery. But probably, I thought, it is quite simple of solution, and the fact of the repairers and the landlord being in evidence at one time, a natural coincidence.
"I dined well, and sallied forth about nine o'clock. It was a night pregnant with possibilities. The lower strata127 of air were calm, but overhead the wind went down the sea with a noise of baggage-wagons, and there was an ominous128 hurrying and gathering129 together of forces under the bellying130 standards of the clouds.
"As I went up the steps of the lonely building, the High Street seemed to turn all its staring eyes of lamps in my direction. 'What a droll131 fellow!' they appeared to be saying; 'and how will he look when he reissues?'
"'There ain't nubbudy in that house,' croaked132 a small boy, who had paused below, squinting133 up at me.
"'How do you know?' said I. 'Move on, my little man.'
"He went; and at once it occurred to me that, as no notice was taken of my repeated knockings, I might as well try the handle. I did, found the door unlatched, as it had been in the morning, pushed it open, entered, and swung it to behind me.
"I found myself in the most profound darkness—that darkness, if I may use the paradox134, of a peopled desolation that men of but little nerve or resolution find insupportable. To me, trained to a serenity135 of stoicism, it could make no demoralizing appeal. I had out my matchbox, opened it at leisure, and, while the whole vaulting137 blackness seemed to tick and rustle138 with secret movement, took a half-dozen vestas into my hand, struck one alight, and, by its dim radiance, made my way through the building by the passages we had penetrated139 in the morning. If at all I shrank or perspired140 on my spectral141 journey, I swear I was not conscious of doing so.
"I came to the door of the cabin. All was black and silent.
"Not to subscribe143 to an uncertainty144, I pushed at the door, saw only swimming dead vacancy145 before me, and tripping at the instant on the sill, stumbled crashing into the room below and slid my length on the floor.
"Now, I must tell you, it was here my heart gave its first somersault. I had fallen, as I say, into a black vault136 of emptiness; yet, as I rose, bruised146 and dazed, to my feet, there was the cabin all alight from a great lanthorn that swung from the ceiling, and our friend of the morning seated at a table, with a case-bottle of rum and glasses before him.
"I stared incredulous. Yes, there could be no doubt it was he, and pretty flushed with drink, too, by his appearance.
"'Incandescent147 light in a West Indiaman!' I muttered; for not otherwise could I account for the sudden illumination. 'What the deuce!'
"'A handsome manner of boarding a craft you've got, sir,' said he, glooming at me.
"I was hastening to apologize, but he stopped me coarsely.
"'Oh, curse the long jaw149 of him! Fill your cheek with that, you Barbary ape, and wag your tail if you can, but burn your tongue.'
"He pointed3 to the case-bottle with a forefinger150 that was like a dirty parsnip. What induced me to swallow the insult, and even some of the pungent151 liquor of his rude offering? The itch10 for 'copy' was, no doubt, at the bottom of it.
"I sat down opposite my host, filled and drained a bumper152. The fire ran to my brain, so that the whole room seemed to pitch and courtesy.
"'This is an odd fancy of yours,' I said.
"'What is?' said he.
"'This,' I answered, waving my hand around—'this freak of turning a back room into a cabin.'
"He stared at me, and then burst into a malevolent153 laugh.
"'Back room, by thunder!' said he. 'Why, of course—just a step into the garden where the roses and the buttercupses be agrowing.'
"'Has the night turned foul?' I muttered. 'What a noise the rain makes beating on the window!'
"'It's like to be a foul one for you, at least,' said he. 'But, as for the rain, it's blazing moonlight.'
"I turned to the broad casement155 in astonishment. My God! what did I see? Oh, my friend, my friend! will you believe me? By the melancholy156 glow that spread therethrough I saw that the whole room was rising and sinking in rhythmical157 motion; that the lights of King's Cobb had disappeared, and that in their place was revealed a world of pale and tossing water, the pursuing waves of which leapt and clutched at the glass with innocuous fingers.
"I started to my feet, mad in an instant.
"They came rising on the crests160 of the billows; they hurried fast in our wake, tumbling and swaying, their stretched, drowned faces now lifted to the moonlight, now over-washed in the long trenches161 of water. They were rolled against the galleries of glass, on which their hair slapped like ribbons of seaweed—a score of ghastly white corpses162, with strained black eyes and pointed stiff elbows crookt up in vain for air.
"I was mad, but I knew it all now. This was no house, but the good, ill-fated vessel Rayo, once bound for Jamaica, but on the voyage fallen into the hands of the bloody buccaneer, Paul Hardman, and her crew made to walk the plank163, and most of her passengers. I knew that the dark scoundrel had boarded and mastered her, and—having first fired and sunk his own sloop—had steered164 her straight for the Cuban coast, making disposition165 of what remained of the passengers on the way, and I knew that my great-grandfather had been one of these doomed166 survivors167, and that he had been shot and murdered under orders of the ruffian that now sat before me. All this, as retailed168 by one who sailed for a season under Hardman to save his skin, is matter of old private history; and of common report was it that the monster buccaneer, after years of successful trading in the ship he had stolen, went into secret and prosperous retirement169 under an assumed name, and was never heard of more on the high seas. But, it seemed, it was for the great-grandson of one of his victims to play yet a sympathetic part in the grey old tragedy.
"How did this come to me in a moment—or, rather, what was that dream buzzing in my brain of 'proof' and 'copy' and all the tame stagnation170 of a long delirium171 of order? I had nothing in common with the latter. In some telepathic way—influenced by these past-dated surroundings—dropped into the very den30 of this Procrustes of the seas, I was there to re-enact the fearful scene that had found its climax172 in the brain of my ancestor.
"I rushed to the window, thence back to within a yard of the glowering173 buccaneer, before whom I stood, with tost arms, wild and menacing.
"'They follow you!' I screamed. 'Passive, relentless174, and deadly, they follow in your wake and will not be denied. The strong, the helpless, the coarse and the beautiful—all you have killed and mutilated in your wanton devilry—they are on your heels like a pack of spectre-hounds, and sooner or later they will have you in their cold arms and hale you down to the secret places of terror. Look at Beston, who leads, with a fearful smile on his mouth! Look at that pale girl you tortured, whose hair writhes175 and lengthens—a swarm176 of snakes nosing the hull177 for some open port-hole to enter by! Dog and devil, you are betrayed by your own hideous178 cruelty!'
"'Jorinder! make hell of the galley-fire! Heat some irons red and fetch out a bucket of pitch. We'll learn this dandy galloot his manners!'
"Wrought to the snapping-point of desperation, I sprang at and closed with him; and we went down on the floor together with a heavy crash. I was weaponless, but I would choke and strangle him with my hands. I had him under, my fingers crookt in his throat. His eyeballs slipped forward, like banana ends squeezed from their skins; he could not speak or cry, but he put up one feeble hand and flapped it aimlessly. At that, in the midst of my fury, I glanced above me, and saw a press of dim faces crowding a dusk hatch; and from them a shadowy arm came through, pointing a weapon; and all my soul reeled sick, and I only longed to be left time to destroy the venomous horror beneath me before I passed.
"It was not to be. Something, a physical sensation like the jerk of a hiccup180, shook my frame; and immediately the waters of being seemed to burst their dam and flow out peaceably into a valley of rest."
William Tyrwhitt paused, and "Well?" said I.
"You see me here," he said. "I woke this morning, and found myself lying on the floor of that shattered and battered181 closet, and a starved demon182 of a cat licking up something from the boards. When I drove her away, there was a patch there like ancient dried blood."
"And how about your head?"
"My head? Why, the bullet seemed stuck in it between the temples; and there I am afraid it is still."
"Just so. Now, William Tyrwhitt, you must take a Turkish, bath and some cooling salts, and then come and tell me all about it again."
"Ah! you don't believe me, I see. I never supposed you would.
Good-night!"
But, when he was gone, I sat ruminating183.
"That Captain Iron," I thought, "walked over the great rent in the floor without falling through. Well, well!"
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1
inquisitiveness
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| 好奇，求知欲 | |
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weirdness
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| n.古怪，离奇，不可思议 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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oysters
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| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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itch
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| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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addled
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| adj.（头脑）糊涂的，愚蠢的；（指蛋类）变坏v.使糊涂( addle的过去式和过去分词 )；使混乱；使腐臭；使变质 | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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sluggard
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| n.懒人；adj.懒惰的 | |
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cannoned
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| vi.与…猛撞（cannon的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
enervating
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| v.使衰弱，使失去活力( enervate的现在分词 ) | |
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30
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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31
slashing
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| adj.尖锐的；苛刻的；鲜明的；乱砍的v.挥砍( slash的现在分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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32
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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33
meandering
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| 蜿蜒的河流，漫步，聊天 | |
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34
rivulets
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| n.小河，小溪( rivulet的名词复数 ) | |
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35
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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36
peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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37
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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38
bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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39
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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40
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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41
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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42
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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43
zinc
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| n.锌；vt.在...上镀锌 | |
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44
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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45
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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46
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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47
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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48
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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49
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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50
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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51
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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52
derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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53
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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54
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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55
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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56
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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57
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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58
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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59
eccentricity
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| n.古怪，反常，怪癖 | |
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60
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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61
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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62
supplementary
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| adj.补充的，附加的 | |
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63
dilapidation
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| n.倒塌；毁坏 | |
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64
mildewed
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| adj.发了霉的，陈腐的，长了霉花的v.（使）发霉，（使）长霉( mildew的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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66
rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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67
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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68
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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69
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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70
glowered
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| v.怒视( glower的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
surfeit
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| v.使饮食过度；n.(食物)过量，过度 | |
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72
assuage
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| v.缓和，减轻，镇定 | |
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73
grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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74
crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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75
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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76
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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77
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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78
lockers
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| n.寄物柜( locker的名词复数 ) | |
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79
outwards
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| adj.外面的，公开的，向外的；adv.向外；n.外形 | |
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80
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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81
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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82
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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83
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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84
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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85
fixture
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| n.固定设备；预定日期；比赛时间；定期存款 | |
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86
maniacally
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87
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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88
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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89
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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90
gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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91
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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92
mouldered
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| v.腐朽( moulder的过去式和过去分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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93
dummies
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| n.仿制品( dummy的名词复数 )；橡皮奶头；笨蛋；假传球 | |
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94
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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95
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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96
sprouting
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| v.发芽( sprout的现在分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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97
buckled
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| a. 有带扣的 | |
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98
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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99
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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100
smacks
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| 掌掴（声）( smack的名词复数 )； 海洛因； （打的）一拳； 打巴掌 | |
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101
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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102
raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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103
sloop
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| n.单桅帆船 | |
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104
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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105
rejection
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| n.拒绝，被拒，抛弃，被弃 | |
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106
exigencies
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| n.急切需要 | |
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107
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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108
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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109
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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110
pusillanimous
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| adj.懦弱的，胆怯的 | |
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111
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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112
withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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113
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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114
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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115
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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116
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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117
emetic
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| n.催吐剂；adj.催吐的 | |
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118
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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119
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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120
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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121
manliness
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| 刚毅 | |
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122
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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123
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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124
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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125
whetted
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| v.（在石头上）磨（刀、斧等）( whet的过去式和过去分词 )；引起，刺激（食欲、欲望、兴趣等） | |
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126
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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127
strata
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| n.地层（复数）；社会阶层 | |
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128
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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129
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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130
bellying
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| 鼓出部；鼓鼓囊囊 | |
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131
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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132
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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133
squinting
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| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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134
paradox
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| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
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135
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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136
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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137
vaulting
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| n.（天花板或屋顶的）拱形结构 | |
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138
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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139
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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140
perspired
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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141
spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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142
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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143
subscribe
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| vi.(to)订阅，订购；同意；vt.捐助，赞助 | |
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144
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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145
vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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146
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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147
incandescent
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| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
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148
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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149
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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150
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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151
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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152
bumper
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| n.(汽车上的)保险杠；adj.特大的，丰盛的 | |
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153
malevolent
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| adj.有恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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154
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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155
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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156
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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157
rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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158
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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159
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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160
crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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161
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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162
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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163
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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164
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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165
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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166
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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167
survivors
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| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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168
retailed
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| vt.零售（retail的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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169
retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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170
stagnation
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| n. 停滞 | |
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171
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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172
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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173
glowering
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| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
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174
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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175
writhes
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的第三人称单数 ) | |
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176
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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177
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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178
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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179
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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180
hiccup
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| n.打嗝 | |
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181
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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182
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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183
ruminating
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| v.沉思( ruminate的现在分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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