He and I got into the tonneau, and the driver swung us out of the station road up a long incline of hill. Sir Archie had been one of my subalterns in the old Lennox Highlanders, and had left us before the Somme to join the Flying Corps1. I had heard that he had got his wings and had done well before Arras, and was now training pilots at home. He had been a light-hearted youth, who had endured a good deal of rough-tonguing from me for his sins of omission2. But it was the casual class of lad I was looking for now.
I saw him steal amused glances at my appearance.
‘Been seein’ a bit of life, sir?’ he inquired respectfully.
‘I’m being hunted by the police,’ I said.
‘Dirty dogs! But don’t worry, sir; we’ll get you off all right. I’ve been in the same fix myself. You can lie snug3 in my little log hut, for that old image Gibbons won’t blab. Or, tell you what, I’ve got an aunt who lives near here and she’s a bit of a sportsman. You can hide in her moated grange till the bobbies get tired.’
I think it was Archie’s calm acceptance of my position as natural and becoming that restored my good temper. He was far too well bred to ask what crime I had committed, and I didn’t propose to enlighten him much. But as we swung up the moorland road I let him know that I was serving the Government, but that it was necessary that I should appear to be unauthenticated and that therefore I must dodge5 the police. He whistled his appreciation6.
‘Gad, that’s a deep game. Sort of camouflage7? Speaking from my experience it is easy to overdo8 that kind of stunt9. When I was at Misieux the French started out to camouflage the caravans10 where they keep their pigeons, and they did it so damned well that the poor little birds couldn’t hit ’em off, and spent the night out.’
We entered the white gates of a big aerodrome, skirted a forest of tents and huts, and drew up at a shanty11 on the far confines of the place. The hour was half past four, and the world was still asleep. Archie nodded towards one of the hangars, from the mouth of which projected the propeller12 end of an aeroplane.
‘I’m by way of flyin’ that bus down to Farnton tomorrow,’ he remarked. ‘It’s the new Shark–Gladas. Got a mouth like a tree.’
An idea flashed into my mind.
‘You’re going this morning,’ I said.
‘How did you know?’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m due to go today, but the grouse13 up in Caithness wanted shootin’ so badly that I decided14 to wangle another day’s leave. They can’t expect a man to start for the south of England when he’s just off a frowsy journey.’
‘All the same you’re going to be a stout15 fellow and start in two hours’ time. And you’re going to take me with you.’
He stared blankly, and then burst into a roar of laughter. ‘You’re the man to go tiger-shootin’ with. But what price my commandant? He’s not a bad chap, but a trifle shaggy about the fetlocks. He won’t appreciate the joke.’
‘He needn’t know. He mustn’t know. This is an affair between you and me till it’s finished. I promise you I’ll make it all square with the Flying Corps. Get me down to Farnton before evening, and you’ll have done a good piece of work for the country.’
‘Right-o! Let’s have a tub and a bit of breakfast, and then I’m your man. I’ll tell them to get the bus ready.’
In Archie’s bedroom I washed and shaved and borrowed a green tweed cap and a brand-new Aquascutum. The latter covered the deficiencies of my raiment, and when I commandeered a pair of gloves I felt almost respectable. Gibbons, who seemed to be a jack-of-all-trades, cooked us some bacon and an omelette, and as he ate Archie yarned16. In the battalion17 his conversation had been mostly of race-meetings and the forsaken18 delights of town, but now he had forgotten all that, and, like every good airman I have ever known, wallowed enthusiastically in ‘shop’. I have a deep respect for the Flying Corps, but it is apt to change its jargon20 every month, and its conversation is hard for the layman21 to follow. He was desperately22 keen about the war, which he saw wholly from the viewpoint of the air. Arras to him was over before the infantry23 crossed the top, and the tough bit of the Somme was October, not September. He calculated that the big air-fighting had not come along yet, and all he hoped for was to be allowed out to France to have his share in it. Like all good airmen, too, he was very modest about himself. ‘I’ve done a bit of steeple-chasin’ and huntin’ and I’ve good hands for a horse, so I can handle a bus fairly well. It’s all a matter of hands, you know. There ain’t half the risk of the infantry down below you, and a million times the fun. Jolly glad I changed, sir.’
We talked of Peter, and he put him about top. Voss, he thought, was the only Boche that could compare with him, for he hadn’t made up his mind about Lensch. The Frenchman Guynemer he ranked high, but in a different way. I remember he had no respect for Richthofen and his celebrated24 circus.
At six sharp we were ready to go. A couple of mechanics had got out the machine, and Archie put on his coat and gloves and climbed into the pilot’s seat, while I squeezed in behind in the observer’s place. The aerodrome was waking up, but I saw no officers about. We were scarcely seated when Gibbons called our attention to a motor-car on the road, and presently we heard a shout and saw men waving in our direction.
‘Better get off, my lad,’ I said. ‘These look like my friends.’
The engine started and the mechanics stood clear. As we taxied over the turf I looked back and saw several figures running in our direction. The next second we had left the bumpy25 earth for the smooth highroad of the air.
I had flown several dozen times before, generally over the enemy lines when I wanted to see for myself how the land lay. Then we had flown low, and been nicely dusted by the Hun Archies, not to speak of an occasional machine-gun. But never till that hour had I realized the joy of a straight flight in a swift plane in perfect weather. Archie didn’t lose time. Soon the hangars behind looked like a child’s toys, and the world ran away from us till it seemed like a great golden bowl spilling over with the quintessence of light. The air was cold and my hands numbed26, but I never felt them. As we throbbed27 and tore southward, sometimes bumping in eddies28, sometimes swimming evenly in a stream of motionless ether, my head and heart grew as light as a boy’s. I forgot all about the vexations of my job and saw only its joyful29 comedy. I didn’t think that anything on earth could worry me again. Far to the left was a wedge of silver and beside it a cluster of toy houses. That must be Edinburgh, where reposed30 my portmanteau, and where a most efficient police force was now inquiring for me. At the thought I laughed so loud that Archie must have heard me. He turned round, saw my grinning face, and grinned back. Then he signalled to me to strap31 myself in. I obeyed, and he proceeded to practise ‘stunts’— the loop, the spinning nose-dive, and others I didn’t know the names of. It was glorious fun, and he handled his machine as a good rider coaxes32 a nervous horse over a stiff hurdle33. He had that extra something in his blood that makes the great pilot.
Presently the chessboard of green and brown had changed to a deep purple with faint silvery lines like veins34 in a rock. We were crossing the Border hills, the place where I had legged it for weary days when I was mixed up in the Black Stone business. What a marvellous element was this air, which took one far above the fatigues35 of humanity! Archie had done well to change. Peter had been the wise man. I felt a tremendous pity for my old friend hobbling about a German prison-yard, when he had once flown a hawk36. I reflected that I had wasted my life hitherto. And then I remembered that all this glory had only one use in war and that was to help the muddy British infantryman to down his Hun opponent. He was the fellow, after all, that decided battles, and the thought comforted me.
A great exhilaration is often the precursor37 of disaster, and mine was to have a sudden downfall. It was getting on for noon and we were well into England — I guessed from the rivers we had passed that we were somewhere in the north of Yorkshire — when the machine began to make odd sounds, and we bumped in perfectly38 calm patches of air. We dived and then climbed, but the confounded thing kept sputtering39. Archie passed back a slip of paper on which he had scribbled40: ‘Engine conked. Must land at Micklegill. Very sorry.’ So we dropped to a lower elevation41 where we could see clearly the houses and roads and the long swelling42 ridges43 of a moorland country. I could never have found my way about, but Archie’s practised eye knew every landmark45. We were trundling along very slowly now, and even I was soon able to pick up the hangars of a big aerodrome.
We made Micklegill, but only by the skin of our teeth. We were so low that the smoky chimneys of the city of Bradfield seven miles to the east were half hidden by a ridge44 of down. Archie achieved a clever descent in the lee of a belt of firs, and got out full of imprecations against the Gladas engine. ‘I’ll go up to the camp and report,’ he said, ‘and send mechanics down to tinker this darned gramophone. You’d better go for a walk, sir. I don’t want to answer questions about you till we’re ready to start. I reckon it’ll be an hour’s job.’
The cheerfulness I had acquired in the upper air still filled me. I sat down in a ditch, as merry as a sand-boy, and lit a pipe. I was possessed46 by a boyish spirit of casual adventure, and waited on the next turn of fortune’s wheel with only a pleasant amusement.
That turn was not long in coming. Archie appeared very breathless.
‘Look here, sir, there’s the deuce of a row up there. They’ve been wirin’ about you all over the country, and they know you’re with me. They’ve got the police, and they’ll have you in five minutes if you don’t leg it. I lied like billy-o and said I had never heard of you, but they’re comin’ to see for themselves. For God’s sake get off . . . You’d better keep in cover down that hollow and round the back of these trees. I’ll stay here and try to brazen47 it out. I’ll get strafed to blazes anyhow . . . I hope you’ll get me out of the scrape, sir.’
‘Don’t you worry, my lad,’ I said. ‘I’ll make it all square when I get back to town. I’ll make for Bradfield, for this place is a bit conspicuous48. Goodbye, Archie. You’re a good chap and I’ll see you don’t suffer.’
I started off down the hollow of the moor4, trying to make speed atone49 for lack of strategy, for it was hard to know how much my pursuers commanded from that higher ground. They must have seen me, for I heard whistles blown and men’s cries. I struck a road, crossed it, and passed a ridge from which I had a view of Bradfield six miles off. And as I ran I began to reflect that this kind of chase could not last long. They were bound to round me up in the next half-hour unless I could puzzle them. But in that bare green place there was no cover, and it looked as if my chances were pretty much those of a hare coursed by a good greyhound on a naked moor.
Suddenly from just in front of me came a familiar sound. It was the roar of guns — the slam of field-batteries and the boom of small howitzers. I wondered if I had gone off my head. As I plodded50 on the rattle51 of machine-guns was added, and over the ridge before me I saw the dust and fumes52 of bursting shells. I concluded that I was not mad, and that therefore the Germans must have landed. I crawled up the last slope, quite forgetting the pursuit behind me.
And then I’m blessed if I did not look down on a veritable battle.
There were two sets of trenches53 with barbed wire and all the fixings, one set filled with troops and the other empty. On these latter shells were bursting, but there was no sign of life in them. In the other lines there seemed the better part of two brigades, and the first trench54 was stiff with bayonets. My first thought was that Home Forces had gone dotty, for this kind of show could have no sort of training value. And then I saw other things — cameras and camera-men on platforms on the flanks, and men with megaphones behind them on wooden scaffoldings. One of the megaphones was going full blast all the time.
I saw the meaning of the performance at last. Some movie-merchant had got a graft55 with the Government, and troops had been turned out to make a war film. It occurred to me that if I were mixed up in that push I might get the cover I was looking for. I scurried56 down the hill to the nearest camera-man.
As I ran, the first wave of troops went over the top. They did it uncommon57 well, for they entered into the spirit of the thing, and went over with grim faces and that slow, purposeful lope that I had seen in my own fellows at Arras. Smoke grenades burst among them, and now and then some resourceful mountebank58 would roll over. Altogether it was about the best show I have ever seen. The cameras clicked, the guns banged, a background of boy scouts59 applauded, and the dust rose in billows to the sky.
But all the same something was wrong. I could imagine that this kind of business took a good deal of planning from the point of view of the movie-merchant, for his purpose was not the same as that of the officer in command. You know how a photographer finicks about and is dissatisfied with a pose that seems all right to his sitter. I should have thought the spectacle enough to get any cinema audience off their feet, but the man on the scaffolding near me judged differently. He made his megaphone boom like the swan-song of a dying buffalo61. He wanted to change something and didn’t know how to do it. He hopped62 on one leg; he took the megaphone from his mouth to curse; he waved it like a banner and yelled at some opposite number on the other flank. And then his patience forsook63 him and he skipped down the ladder, dropping his megaphone, past the camera-men, on to the battlefield.
That was his undoing64. He got in the way of the second wave and was swallowed up like a leaf in a torrent65. For a moment I saw a red face and a loud-checked suit, and the rest was silence. He was carried on over the hill, or rolled into an enemy trench, but anyhow he was lost to my ken19.
I bagged his megaphone and hopped up the steps to the platform. At last I saw a chance of first-class cover, for with Archie’s coat and cap I made a very good appearance as a movie-merchant. Two waves had gone over the top, and the cinema-men, working like beavers66, had filmed the lot. But there was still a fair amount of troops to play with, and I determined67 to tangle68 up that outfit69 so that the fellows who were after me would have better things to think about.
My advantage was that I knew how to command men. I could see that my opposite number with the megaphone was helpless, for the mistake which had swept my man into a shell-hole had reduced him to impotence. The troops seemed to be mainly in charge of N.C.O.s (I could imagine that the officers would try to shirk this business), and an N.C.O. is the most literal creature on earth. So with my megaphone I proceeded to change the battle order.
I brought up the third wave to the front trenches. In about three minutes the men had recognized the professional touch and were moving smartly to my orders. They thought it was part of the show, and the obedient cameras clicked at everything that came into their orbit. My aim was to deploy70 the troops on too narrow a front so that they were bound to fan outward, and I had to be quick about it, for I didn’t know when the hapless movie-merchant might be retrieved71 from the battle-field and dispute my authority.
It takes a long time to straighten a thing out, but it does not take long to tangle it, especially when the thing is so delicate a machine as disciplined troops. In about eight minutes I had produced chaos72. The flanks spread out, in spite of all the shepherding of the N.C.O.s, and the fringe engulfed73 the photographers. The cameras on their little platforms went down like ninepins. It was solemn to see the startled face of a photographer, taken unawares, supplicating74 the purposeful infantry, before he was swept off his feet into speechlessness.
It was no place for me to linger in, so I chucked away the megaphone and got mixed up with the tail of the third wave. I was swept on and came to anchor in the enemy trenches, where I found, as I expected, my profane75 and breathless predecessor76, the movie-merchant. I had nothing to say to him, so I stuck to the trench till it ended against the slope of the hill.
On that flank, delirious77 with excitement, stood a knot of boy scouts. My business was to get to Bradfield as quick as my legs would take me, and as inconspicuously as the gods would permit. Unhappily I was far too great an object of interest to that nursery of heroes. Every boy scout60 is an amateur detective and hungry for knowledge. I was followed by several, who plied78 me with questions, and were told that I was off to Bradfield to hurry up part of the cinema outfit. It sounded lame79 enough, for that cinema outfit was already past praying for.
We reached the road and against a stone wall stood several bicycles. I selected one and prepared to mount.
‘That’s Mr Emmott’s machine,’ said one boy sharply. ‘He told me to keep an eye on it.’
‘I must borrow it, sonny,’ I said. ‘Mr Emmott’s my very good friend and won’t object.’
From the place where we stood I overlooked the back of the battle-field and could see an anxious congress of officers. I could see others, too, whose appearance I did not like. They had not been there when I operated on the megaphone. They must have come downhill from the aerodrome and in all likelihood were the pursuers I had avoided. The exhilaration which I had won in the air and which had carried me into the tomfoolery of the past half-hour was ebbing80. I had the hunted feeling once more, and grew middle-aged81 and cautious. I had a baddish record for the day, what with getting Archie into a scrape and busting82 up an official cinema show — neither consistent with the duties of a brigadier-general. Besides, I had still to get to London.
I had not gone two hundred yards down the road when a boy scout, pedalling furiously, came up abreast83 me.
‘Colonel Edgeworth wants to see you,’ he panted. ‘You’re to come back at once.’
‘Tell him I can’t wait now,’ I said. ‘I’ll pay my respects to him in an hour.’
‘He said you were to come at once,’ said the faithful messenger. ‘He’s in an awful temper with you, and he’s got bobbies with him.’
I put on pace and left the boy behind. I reckoned I had the better part of two miles’ start and could beat anything except petrol. But my enemies were bound to have cars, so I had better get off the road as soon as possible. I coasted down a long hill to a bridge which spanned a small discoloured stream that flowed in a wooded glen. There was nobody for the moment on the hill behind me, so I slipped into the covert84, shoved the bicycle under the bridge, and hid Archie’s aquascutum in a bramble thicket85. I was now in my own disreputable tweeds and I hoped that the shedding of my most conspicuous garment would puzzle my pursuers if they should catch up with me.
But this I was determined they should not do. I made good going down that stream and out into a lane which led from the downs to the market-gardens round the city. I thanked Heaven I had got rid of the aquascutum, for the August afternoon was warm and my pace was not leisurely86. When I was in secluded87 ground I ran, and when anyone was in sight I walked smartly.
As I went I reflected that Bradfield would see the end of my adventures. The police knew that I was there and would watch the stations and hunt me down if I lingered in the place. I knew no one there and had no chance of getting an effective disguise. Indeed I very soon began to wonder if I should get even as far as the streets. For at the moment when I had got a lift on the back of a fishmonger’s cart and was screened by its flapping canvas, two figures passed on motor-bicycles, and one of them was the inquisitive88 boy scout. The main road from the aerodrome was probably now being patrolled by motor-cars. It looked as if there would be a degrading arrest in one of the suburbs.
The fish-cart, helped by half a crown to the driver, took me past the outlying small-villadom, between long lines of workmen’s houses, to narrow cobbled lanes and the purlieus of great factories. As soon as I saw the streets well crowded I got out and walked. In my old clothes I must have appeared like some second-class bookie or seedy horse-coper. The only respectable thing I had about me was my gold watch. I looked at the time and found it half past five.
I wanted food and was casting about for an eating-house when I heard the purr of a motor-cycle and across the road saw the intelligent boy scout. He saw me, too, and put on the brake with a sharpness which caused him to skid89 and all but come to grief under the wheels of a wool-wagon. That gave me time to efface90 myself by darting91 up a side street. I had an unpleasant sense that I was about to be trapped, for in a place I knew nothing of I had not a chance to use my wits.
I remember trying feverishly92 to think, and I suppose that my preoccupation made me careless. I was now in a veritable slum, and when I put my hand to my vest pocket I found that my watch had gone. That put the top stone on my depression. The reaction from the wild burnout of the forenoon had left me very cold about the feet. I was getting into the under-world again and there was no chance of a second Archie Roylance turning up to rescue me. I remember yet the sour smell of the factories and the mist of smoke in the evening air. It is a smell I have never met since without a sort of dulling of spirit.
Presently I came out into a market-place. Whistles were blowing, and there was a great hurrying of people back from the mills. The crowd gave me a momentary93 sense of security, and I was just about to inquire my way to the railway station when someone jostled my arm.
A rough-looking fellow in mechanic’s clothes was beside me.
‘Mate,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve got summat o’ yours here.’ And to my amazement94 he slipped my watch into my hand.
‘It was took by mistake. We’re friends o’ yours. You’re right enough if you do what I tell you. There’s a peeler over there got his eye on you. Follow me and I’ll get you off.’
I didn’t much like the man’s looks, but I had no choice, and anyhow he had given me back my watch. He sidled into an alley95 between tall houses and I sidled after him. Then he took to his heels, and led me a twisting course through smelly courts into a tanyard and then by a narrow lane to the back-quarters of a factory. Twice we doubled back, and once we climbed a wall and followed the bank of a blue-black stream with a filthy96 scum on it. Then we got into a very mean quarter of the town, and emerged in a dingy97 garden, strewn with tin cans and broken flowerpots. By a back door we entered one of the cottages and my guide very carefully locked it behind him.
He lit the gas and drew the blinds in a small parlour and looked at me long and quizzically. He spoke98 now in an educated voice.
‘I ask no questions,’ he said, ‘but it’s my business to put my services at your disposal. You carry the passport.’
I stared at him, and he pulled out his watch and showed a white-and-purple cross inside the lid.
‘I don’t defend all the people we employ,’ he said, grinning. ‘Men’s morals are not always as good as their patriotism100. One of them pinched your watch, and when he saw what was inside it he reported to me. We soon picked up your trail, and observed you were in a bit of trouble. As I say, I ask no questions. What can we do for you?’
‘I want to get to London without any questions asked. They’re looking for me in my present rig, so I’ve got to change it.’
‘That’s easy enough,’ he said. ‘Make yourself comfortable for a little and I’ll fix you up. The night train goes at eleven-thirty. . . . You’ll find cigars in the cupboard and there’s this week’s Critic on that table. It’s got a good article on Conrad, if you care for such things.’
I helped myself to a cigar and spent a profitable half-hour reading about the vices99 of the British Government. Then my host returned and bade me ascend101 to his bedroom. ‘You’re Private Henry Tomkins of the 12th Gloucesters, and you’ll find your clothes ready for you. I’ll send on your present togs if you give me an address.’
I did as I was bid, and presently emerged in the uniform of a British private, complete down to the shapeless boots and the dropsical puttees. Then my friend took me in hand and finished the transformation102. He started on my hair with scissors and arranged a lock which, when well oiled, curled over my forehead. My hands were hard and rough and only needed some grubbiness and hacking103 about the nails to pass muster104. With my cap on the side of my head, a pack on my back, a service rifle in my hands, and my pockets bursting with penny picture papers, I was the very model of the British soldier returning from leave. I had also a packet of Woodbine cigarettes and a hunch105 of bread-and-cheese for the journey. And I had a railway warrant made out in my name for London.
Then my friend gave me supper — bread and cold meat and a bottle of Bass106, which I wolfed savagely107, for I had had nothing since breakfast. He was a curious fellow, as discreet108 as a tombstone, very ready to speak about general subjects, but never once coming near the intimate business which had linked him and me and Heaven knew how many others by means of a little purple-and-white cross in a watch-case. I remember we talked about the topics that used to be popular at Biggleswick — the big political things that begin with capital letters. He took Amos’s view of the soundness of the British working-man, but he said something which made me think. He was convinced that there was a tremendous lot of German spy work about, and that most of the practitioners109 were innocent. ‘The ordinary Briton doesn’t run to treason, but he’s not very bright. A clever man in that kind of game can make better use of a fool than a rogue110.’
As he saw me off he gave me a piece of advice. ‘Get out of these clothes as soon as you reach London. Private Tomkins will frank you out of Bradfield, but it mightn’t be a healthy alias111 in the metropolis112.’
At eleven-thirty I was safe in the train, talking the jargon of the returning soldier with half a dozen of my own type in a smoky third-class carriage. I had been lucky in my escape, for at the station entrance and on the platform I had noticed several men with the unmistakable look of plainclothes police. Also — though this may have been my fancy — I thought I caught in the crowd a glimpse of the bagman who had called himself Linklater.
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1
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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camouflage
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| n./v.掩饰，伪装 | |
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overdo
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| vt.把...做得过头，演得过火 | |
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stunt
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| n.惊人表演，绝技，特技；vt.阻碍...发育，妨碍...生长 | |
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caravans
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| （可供居住的）拖车（通常由机动车拖行）( caravan的名词复数 )； 篷车； （穿过沙漠地带的）旅行队（如商队） | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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propeller
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| n.螺旋桨，推进器 | |
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grouse
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| n.松鸡；v.牢骚，诉苦 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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yarned
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| vi.讲故事（yarn的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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layman
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| n.俗人，门外汉，凡人 | |
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22
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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23
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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24
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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25
bumpy
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| adj.颠簸不平的，崎岖的 | |
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26
numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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28
eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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29
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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30
reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
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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32
coaxes
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的第三人称单数 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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33
hurdle
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| n.跳栏，栏架；障碍，困难；vi.进行跨栏赛 | |
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34
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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35
fatigues
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| n.疲劳( fatigue的名词复数 )；杂役；厌倦；（士兵穿的）工作服 | |
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36
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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37
precursor
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| n.先驱者；前辈；前任；预兆；先兆 | |
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38
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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39
sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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40
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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41
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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42
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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43
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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44
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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45
landmark
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| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
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46
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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47
brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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48
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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49
atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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50
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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51
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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52
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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53
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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54
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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55
graft
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| n.移植，嫁接，艰苦工作，贪污；v.移植，嫁接 | |
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56
scurried
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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58
mountebank
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| n.江湖郎中；骗子 | |
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59
scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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60
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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61
buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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62
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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63
forsook
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| forsake的过去式 | |
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64
undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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65
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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beavers
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| 海狸( beaver的名词复数 )； 海狸皮毛； 棕灰色； 拼命工作的人 | |
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67
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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68
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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69
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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70
deploy
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| v.（军）散开成战斗队形，布置，展开 | |
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71
retrieved
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| v.取回( retrieve的过去式和过去分词 )；恢复；寻回；检索（储存的信息） | |
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72
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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73
engulfed
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| v.吞没，包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
supplicating
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| v.祈求，哀求，恳求( supplicate的现在分词 ) | |
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75
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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76
predecessor
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| n.前辈，前任 | |
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77
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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78
plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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79
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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80
ebbing
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的现在分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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81
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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82
busting
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| 打破，打碎( bust的现在分词 )； 突击搜查（或搜捕）； （使）降级，降低军阶 | |
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83
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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84
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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85
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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86
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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87
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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88
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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89
skid
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| v.打滑 n.滑向一侧；滑道 ，滑轨 | |
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90
efface
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| v.擦掉，抹去 | |
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91
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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92
feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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93
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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94
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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95
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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96
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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97
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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98
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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99
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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100
patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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101
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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102
transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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103
hacking
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| n.非法访问计算机系统和数据库的活动 | |
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104
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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105
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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106
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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107
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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108
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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109
practitioners
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| n.习艺者，实习者( practitioner的名词复数 )；从业者（尤指医师） | |
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110
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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111
alias
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| n.化名；别名；adv.又名 | |
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112
metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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