One wintry evening, early in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighty, a keen north wind arose as it grew dark, and night came on with black and dismal1 looks. A bitter storm of sleet2, sharp, dense3, and icy-cold, swept the wet streets, and rattled5 on the trembling windows. Signboards, shaken past endurance in their creaking frames, fell crashing on the pavement; old tottering6 chimneys reeled and staggered in the blast; and many a steeple rocked again that night, as though the earth were troubled.
It was not a time for those who could by any means get light and warmth, to brave the fury of the weather. In coffee-houses of the better sort, guests crowded round the fire, forgot to be political, and told each other with a secret gladness that the blast grew fiercer every minute. Each humble7 tavern8 by the water-side, had its group of uncouth9 figures round the hearth10, who talked of vessels12 foundering13 at sea, and all hands lost; related many a dismal tale of shipwreck14 and drowned men, and hoped that some they knew were safe, and shook their heads in doubt. In private dwellings15, children clustered near the blaze; listening with timid pleasure to tales of ghosts and goblins, and tall figures clad in white standing16 by bed-sides, and people who had gone to sleep in old churches and being overlooked had found themselves alone there at the dead hour of the night: until they shuddered17 at the thought of the dark rooms upstairs, yet loved to hear the wind moan too, and hoped it would continue bravely. From time to time these happy indoor people stopped to listen, or one held up his finger and cried ‘Hark!’ and then, above the rumbling18 in the chimney, and the fast pattering on the glass, was heard a wailing19, rushing sound, which shook the walls as though a giant’s hand were on them; then a hoarse20 roar as if the sea had risen; then such a whirl and tumult21 that the air seemed mad; and then, with a lengthened22 howl, the waves of wind swept on, and left a moment’s interval23 of rest.
Cheerily, though there were none abroad to see it, shone the Maypole light that evening. Blessings24 on the red — deep, ruby25, glowing red — old curtain of the window; blending into one rich stream of brightness, fire and candle, meat, drink, and company, and gleaming like a jovial26 eye upon the bleak27 waste out of doors! Within, what carpet like its crunching28 sand, what music merry as its crackling logs, what perfume like its kitchen’s dainty breath, what weather genial29 as its hearty30 warmth! Blessings on the old house, how sturdily it stood! How did the vexed31 wind chafe32 and roar about its stalwart roof; how did it pant and strive with its wide chimneys, which still poured forth33 from their hospitable34 throats, great clouds of smoke, and puffed35 defiance36 in its face; how, above all, did it drive and rattle4 at the casement37, emulous to extinguish that cheerful glow, which would not be put down and seemed the brighter for the conflict!
The profusion38 too, the rich and lavish39 bounty40, of that goodly tavern! It was not enough that one fire roared and sparkled on its spacious41 hearth; in the tiles which paved and compassed it, five hundred flickering42 fires burnt brightly also. It was not enough that one red curtain shut the wild night out, and shed its cheerful influence on the room. In every saucepan lid, and candlestick, and vessel11 of copper43, brass44, or tin that hung upon the walls, were countless45 ruddy hangings, flashing and gleaming with every motion of the blaze, and offering, let the eye wander where it might, interminable vistas46 of the same rich colour. The old oak wainscoting, the beams, the chairs, the seats, reflected it in a deep, dull glimmer47. There were fires and red curtains in the very eyes of the drinkers, in their buttons, in their liquor, in the pipes they smoked.
Mr Willet sat in what had been his accustomed place five years before, with his eyes on the eternal boiler48; and had sat there since the clock struck eight, giving no other signs of life than breathing with a loud and constant snore (though he was wide awake), and from time to time putting his glass to his lips, or knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and filling it anew. It was now half-past ten. Mr Cobb and long Phil Parkes were his companions, as of old, and for two mortal hours and a half, none of the company had pronounced one word.
Whether people, by dint49 of sitting together in the same place and the same relative positions, and doing exactly the same things for a great many years, acquire a sixth sense, or some unknown power of influencing each other which serves them in its stead, is a question for philosophy to settle. But certain it is that old John Willet, Mr Parkes, and Mr Cobb, were one and all firmly of opinion that they were very jolly companions — rather choice spirits than otherwise; that they looked at each other every now and then as if there were a perpetual interchange of ideas going on among them; that no man considered himself or his neighbour by any means silent; and that each of them nodded occasionally when he caught the eye of another, as if he would say, ‘You have expressed yourself extremely well, sir, in relation to that sentiment, and I quite agree with you.’
The room was so very warm, the tobacco so very good, and the fire so very soothing50, that Mr Willet by degrees began to doze51; but as he had perfectly52 acquired, by dint of long habit, the art of smoking in his sleep, and as his breathing was pretty much the same, awake or asleep, saving that in the latter case he sometimes experienced a slight difficulty in respiration53 (such as a carpenter meets with when he is planing and comes to a knot), neither of his companions was aware of the circumstance, until he met with one of these impediments and was obliged to try again.
‘Johnny’s dropped off,’ said Mr Parkes in a whisper.
‘Fast as a top,’ said Mr Cobb.
Neither of them said any more until Mr Willet came to another knot — one of surpassing obduracy54 — which bade fair to throw him into convulsions, but which he got over at last without waking, by an effort quite superhuman.
‘He sleeps uncommon55 hard,’ said Mr Cobb.
Mr Parkes, who was possibly a hard-sleeper himself, replied with some disdain56, ‘Not a bit on it;’ and directed his eyes towards a handbill pasted over the chimney-piece, which was decorated at the top with a woodcut representing a youth of tender years running away very fast, with a bundle over his shoulder at the end of a stick, and — to carry out the idea — a finger-post and a milestone57 beside him. Mr Cobb likewise turned his eyes in the same direction, and surveyed the placard as if that were the first time he had ever beheld58 it. Now, this was a document which Mr Willet had himself indited59 on the disappearance60 of his son Joseph, acquainting the nobility and gentry61 and the public in general with the circumstances of his having left his home; describing his dress and appearance; and offering a reward of five pounds to any person or persons who would pack him up and return him safely to the Maypole at Chigwell, or lodge62 him in any of his Majesty’s jails until such time as his father should come and claim him. In this advertisement Mr Willet had obstinately63 persisted, despite the advice and entreaties64 of his friends, in describing his son as a ‘young boy;’ and furthermore as being from eighteen inches to a couple of feet shorter than he really was; two circumstances which perhaps accounted, in some degree, for its never having been productive of any other effect than the transmission to Chigwell at various times and at a vast expense, of some five-and-forty runaways65 varying from six years old to twelve.
Mr Cobb and Mr Parkes looked mysteriously at this composition, at each other, and at old John. From the time he had pasted it up with his own hands, Mr Willet had never by word or sign alluded66 to the subject, or encouraged any one else to do so. Nobody had the least notion what his thoughts or opinions were, connected with it; whether he remembered it or forgot it; whether he had any idea that such an event had ever taken place. Therefore, even while he slept, no one ventured to refer to it in his presence; and for such sufficient reasons, these his chosen friends were silent now.
Mr Willet had got by this time into such a complication of knots, that it was perfectly clear he must wake or die. He chose the former alternative, and opened his eyes.
‘If he don’t come in five minutes,’ said John, ‘I shall have supper without him.’
The antecedent of this pronoun had been mentioned for the last time at eight o’clock. Messrs Parkes and Cobb being used to this style of conversation, replied without difficulty that to be sure Solomon was very late, and they wondered what had happened to detain him.
‘He an’t blown away, I suppose,’ said Parkes. ‘It’s enough to carry a man of his figure off his legs, and easy too. Do you hear it? It blows great guns, indeed. There’ll be many a crash in the Forest to-night, I reckon, and many a broken branch upon the ground to-morrow.’
‘It won’t break anything in the Maypole, I take it, sir,’ returned old John. ‘Let it try. I give it leave — what’s that?’
‘The wind,’ cried Parkes. ‘It’s howling like a Christian67, and has been all night long.’
‘Did you ever, sir,’ asked John, after a minute’s contemplation, ‘hear the wind say “Maypole”?’
‘Why, what man ever did?’ said Parkes.
‘Nor “ahoy,” perhaps?’ added John.
‘No. Nor that neither.’
‘Very good, sir,’ said Mr Willet, perfectly unmoved; ‘then if that was the wind just now, and you’ll wait a little time without speaking, you’ll hear it say both words very plain.’
Mr Willet was right. After listening for a few moments, they could clearly hear, above the roar and tumult out of doors, this shout repeated; and that with a shrillness68 and energy, which denoted that it came from some person in great distress69 or terror. They looked at each other, turned pale, and held their breath. No man stirred.
It was in this emergency that Mr Willet displayed something of that strength of mind and plenitude of mental resource, which rendered him the admiration70 of all his friends and neighbours. After looking at Messrs Parkes and Cobb for some time in silence, he clapped his two hands to his cheeks, and sent forth a roar which made the glasses dance and rafters ring — a long-sustained, discordant71 bellow72, that rolled onward73 with the wind, and startling every echo, made the night a hundred times more boisterous74 — a deep, loud, dismal bray75, that sounded like a human gong. Then, with every vein76 in his head and face swollen77 with the great exertion78, and his countenance79 suffused80 with a lively purple, he drew a little nearer to the fire, and turning his back upon it, said with dignity:
‘If that’s any comfort to anybody, they’re welcome to it. If it an’t, I’m sorry for ’em. If either of you two gentlemen likes to go out and see what’s the matter, you can. I’m not curious, myself.’
While he spoke81 the cry drew nearer and nearer, footsteps passed the window, the latch82 of the door was raised, it opened, was violently shut again, and Solomon Daisy, with a lighted lantern in his hand, and the rain streaming from his disordered dress, dashed into the room.
A more complete picture of terror than the little man presented, it would be difficult to imagine. The perspiration83 stood in beads84 upon his face, his knees knocked together, his every limb trembled, the power of articulation85 was quite gone; and there he stood, panting for breath, gazing on them with such livid ashy looks, that they were infected with his fear, though ignorant of its occasion, and, reflecting his dismayed and horror-stricken visage, stared back again without venturing to question him; until old John Willet, in a fit of temporary insanity86, made a dive at his cravat87, and, seizing him by that portion of his dress, shook him to and fro until his very teeth appeared to rattle in his head.
‘Tell us what’s the matter, sir,’ said John, ‘or I’ll kill you. Tell us what’s the matter, sir, or in another second I’ll have your head under the biler. How dare you look like that? Is anybody a-following of you? What do you mean? Say something, or I’ll be the death of you, I will.’
Mr Willet, in his frenzy88, was so near keeping his word to the very letter (Solomon Daisy’s eyes already beginning to roll in an alarming manner, and certain guttural sounds, as of a choking man, to issue from his throat), that the two bystanders, recovering in some degree, plucked him off his victim by main force, and placed the little clerk of Chigwell in a chair. Directing a fearful gaze all round the room, he implored89 them in a faint voice to give him some drink; and above all to lock the house-door and close and bar the shutters90 of the room, without a moment’s loss of time. The latter request did not tend to reassure91 his hearers, or to fill them with the most comfortable sensations; they complied with it, however, with the greatest expedition; and having handed him a bumper92 of brandy-and-water, nearly boiling hot, waited to hear what he might have to tell them.
‘Oh, Johnny,’ said Solomon, shaking him by the hand. ‘Oh, Parkes. Oh, Tommy Cobb. Why did I leave this house to-night! On the nineteenth of March — of all nights in the year, on the nineteenth of March!’
They all drew closer to the fire. Parkes, who was nearest to the door, started and looked over his shoulder. Mr Willet, with great indignation, inquired what the devil he meant by that — and then said, ‘God forgive me,’ and glanced over his own shoulder, and came a little nearer.
‘When I left here to-night,’ said Solomon Daisy, ‘I little thought what day of the month it was. I have never gone alone into the church after dark on this day, for seven-and-twenty years. I have heard it said that as we keep our birthdays when we are alive, so the ghosts of dead people, who are not easy in their graves, keep the day they died upon.— How the wind roars!’
Nobody spoke. All eyes were fastened on Solomon.
‘I might have known,’ he said, ‘what night it was, by the foul93 weather. There’s no such night in the whole year round as this is, always. I never sleep quietly in my bed on the nineteenth of March.’
‘Go on,’ said Tom Cobb, in a low voice. ‘Nor I neither.’
Solomon Daisy raised his glass to his lips; put it down upon the floor with such a trembling hand that the spoon tinkled94 in it like a little bell; and continued thus:
‘Have I ever said that we are always brought back to this subject in some strange way, when the nineteenth of this month comes round? Do you suppose it was by accident, I forgot to wind up the church-clock? I never forgot it at any other time, though it’s such a clumsy thing that it has to be wound up every day. Why should it escape my memory on this day of all others?
‘I made as much haste down there as I could when I went from here, but I had to go home first for the keys; and the wind and rain being dead against me all the way, it was pretty well as much as I could do at times to keep my legs. I got there at last, opened the church-door, and went in. I had not met a soul all the way, and you may judge whether it was dull or not. Neither of you would bear me company. If you could have known what was to come, you’d have been in the right.
‘The wind was so strong, that it was as much as I could do to shut the church-door by putting my whole weight against it; and even as it was, it burst wide open twice, with such strength that any of you would have sworn, if you had been leaning against it, as I was, that somebody was pushing on the other side. However, I got the key turned, went into the belfry, and wound up the clock — which was very near run down, and would have stood stock-still in half an hour.
‘As I took up my lantern again to leave the church, it came upon me all at once that this was the nineteenth of March. It came upon me with a kind of shock, as if a hand had struck the thought upon my forehead; at the very same moment, I heard a voice outside the tower — rising from among the graves.’
Here old John precipitately95 interrupted the speaker, and begged that if Mr Parkes (who was seated opposite to him and was staring directly over his head) saw anything, he would have the goodness to mention it. Mr Parkes apologised, and remarked that he was only listening; to which Mr Willet angrily retorted, that his listening with that kind of expression in his face was not agreeable, and that if he couldn’t look like other people, he had better put his pocket-handkerchief over his head. Mr Parkes with great submission96 pledged himself to do so, if again required, and John Willet turning to Solomon desired him to proceed. After waiting until a violent gust97 of wind and rain, which seemed to shake even that sturdy house to its foundation, had passed away, the little man complied:
‘Never tell me that it was my fancy, or that it was any other sound which I mistook for that I tell you of. I heard the wind whistle through the arches of the church. I heard the steeple strain and creak. I heard the rain as it came driving against the walls. I felt the bells shake. I saw the ropes sway to and fro. And I heard that voice.’
‘What did it say?’ asked Tom Cobb.
‘I don’t know what; I don’t know that it spoke. It gave a kind of cry, as any one of us might do, if something dreadful followed us in a dream, and came upon us unawares; and then it died off: seeming to pass quite round the church.’
‘I don’t see much in that,’ said John, drawing a long breath, and looking round him like a man who felt relieved.
‘Perhaps not,’ returned his friend, ‘but that’s not all.’
‘What more do you mean to say, sir, is to come?’ asked John, pausing in the act of wiping his face upon his apron98. ‘What are you a-going to tell us of next?’
‘What I saw.’
‘Saw!’ echoed all three, bending forward.
‘When I opened the church-door to come out,’ said the little man, with an expression of face which bore ample testimony99 to the sincerity100 of his conviction, ‘when I opened the church-door to come out, which I did suddenly, for I wanted to get it shut again before another gust of wind came up, there crossed me — so close, that by stretching out my finger I could have touched it — something in the likeness101 of a man. It was bare-headed to the storm. It turned its face without stopping, and fixed102 its eyes on mine. It was a ghost — a spirit.’
‘Whose?’ they all three cried together.
In the excess of his emotion (for he fell back trembling in his chair, and waved his hand as if entreating103 them to question him no further), his answer was lost on all but old John Willet, who happened to be seated close beside him.
‘Who!’ cried Parkes and Tom Cobb, looking eagerly by turns at Solomon Daisy and at Mr Willet. ‘Who was it?’
‘Gentlemen,’ said Mr Willet after a long pause, ‘you needn’t ask. The likeness of a murdered man. This is the nineteenth of March.’
A profound silence ensued.
‘If you’ll take my advice,’ said John, ‘we had better, one and all, keep this a secret. Such tales would not be liked at the Warren. Let us keep it to ourselves for the present time at all events, or we may get into trouble, and Solomon may lose his place. Whether it was really as he says, or whether it wasn’t, is no matter. Right or wrong, nobody would believe him. As to the probabilities, I don’t myself think,’ said Mr Willet, eyeing the corners of the room in a manner which showed that, like some other philosophers, he was not quite easy in his theory, ‘that a ghost as had been a man of sense in his lifetime, would be out a-walking in such weather — I only know that I wouldn’t, if I was one.’
But this heretical doctrine104 was strongly opposed by the other three, who quoted a great many precedents105 to show that bad weather was the very time for such appearances; and Mr Parkes (who had had a ghost in his family, by the mother’s side) argued the matter with so much ingenuity106 and force of illustration, that John was only saved from having to retract107 his opinion by the opportune108 appearance of supper, to which they applied109 themselves with a dreadful relish110. Even Solomon Daisy himself, by dint of the elevating influences of fire, lights, brandy, and good company, so far recovered as to handle his knife and fork in a highly creditable manner, and to display a capacity both of eating and drinking, such as banished111 all fear of his having sustained any lasting112 injury from his fright.
Supper done, they crowded round the fire again, and, as is common on such occasions, propounded113 all manner of leading questions calculated to surround the story with new horrors and surprises. But Solomon Daisy, notwithstanding these temptations, adhered so steadily114 to his original account, and repeated it so often, with such slight variations, and with such solemn asseverations of its truth and reality, that his hearers were (with good reason) more astonished than at first. As he took John Willet’s view of the matter in regard to the propriety115 of not bruiting116 the tale abroad, unless the spirit should appear to him again, in which case it would be necessary to take immediate117 counsel with the clergyman, it was solemnly resolved that it should be hushed up and kept quiet. And as most men like to have a secret to tell which may exalt118 their own importance, they arrived at this conclusion with perfect unanimity119.
As it was by this time growing late, and was long past their usual hour of separating, the cronies parted for the night. Solomon Daisy, with a fresh candle in his lantern, repaired homewards under the escort of long Phil Parkes and Mr Cobb, who were rather more nervous than himself. Mr Willet, after seeing them to the door, returned to collect his thoughts with the assistance of the boiler, and to listen to the storm of wind and rain, which had not yet abated120 one jot121 of its fury.
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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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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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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foundering
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| v.创始人( founder的现在分词 ) | |
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shipwreck
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| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
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dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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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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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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chafe
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| v.擦伤；冲洗；惹怒 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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43
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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44
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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45
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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46
vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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47
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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48
boiler
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| n.锅炉；煮器(壶，锅等) | |
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49
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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50
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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51
doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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52
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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53
respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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54
obduracy
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| n.冷酷无情，顽固，执拗 | |
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55
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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56
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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57
milestone
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| n.里程碑；划时代的事件 | |
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58
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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59
indited
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| v.写（文章，信等）创作，赋诗，创作( indite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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61
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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62
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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63
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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64
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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65
runaways
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| （轻而易举的）胜利( runaway的名词复数 ) | |
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66
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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68
shrillness
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| 尖锐刺耳 | |
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69
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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70
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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71
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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72
bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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73
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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74
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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75
bray
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| n.驴叫声, 喇叭声；v.驴叫 | |
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76
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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77
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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78
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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79
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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80
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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81
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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82
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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83
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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84
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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85
articulation
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| n.（清楚的）发音；清晰度，咬合 | |
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86
insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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87
cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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88
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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89
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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91
reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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92
bumper
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| n.(汽车上的)保险杠；adj.特大的，丰盛的 | |
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93
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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94
tinkled
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| （使）发出丁当声，（使）发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 )； 叮当响着发出，铃铃响着报出 | |
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95
precipitately
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| adv.猛进地 | |
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96
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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97
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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98
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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99
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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100
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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101
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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102
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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103
entreating
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
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104
doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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105
precedents
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| 引用单元； 范例( precedent的名词复数 )； 先前出现的事例； 前例； 先例 | |
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106
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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107
retract
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| vt.缩回，撤回收回，取消 | |
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108
opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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109
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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110
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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111
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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113
propounded
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| v.提出（问题、计划等）供考虑[讨论]，提议( propound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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115
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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116
bruiting
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| v.传播（传说或谣言）( bruit的现在分词 ) | |
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117
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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118
exalt
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| v.赞扬，歌颂，晋升，提升 | |
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119
unanimity
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| n.全体一致，一致同意 | |
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120
abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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121
jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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