A hand reached back to make sure that I followed. We appeared to be in a flagged passage under the main level of the house. My hobnailed boots slipped on the floor, and I steadied myself on the wall, which seemed to be of undressed stone. Mr Donne moved softly and assuredly, for he was better shod for the job than me, and his guiding hand came back constantly to make sure of my whereabouts.
I remember that I felt just as I had felt when on that August night I had explored the crevice6 of the Coolin — the same sense that something queer was going to happen, the same recklessness and contentment. Moving a foot at a time with immense care, we came to a right-hand turning. Two shallow steps led us to another passage, and then my groping hands struck a blind wall. The American was beside me, and his mouth was close to my ear.
‘Got to crawl now,’ he whispered. ‘You lead, mister, while I shed this coat of mine. Eight feet on your stomach and then upright.’
I wriggled8 through a low tunnel, broad enough to take three men abreast9, but not two feet high. Half-way through I felt suffocated10, for I never liked holes, and I had a momentary11 anxiety as to what we were after in this cellar pilgrimage. Presently I smelt free air and got on to my knees.
‘Right, mister?’ came a whisper from behind. My companion seemed to be waiting till I was through before he followed.
‘Right,’ I answered, and very carefully rose to my feet.
Then something happened behind me. There was a jar and a bump as if the roof of the tunnel had subsided12. I turned sharply and groped at the mouth. I stuck my leg down and found a block.
‘Donne,’ I said, as loud as I dared, ‘are you hurt? Where are you?’
But no answer came.
Even then I thought only of an accident. Something had miscarried, and I was cut off in the cellars of an unfriendly house away from the man who knew the road and had a plan in his head. I was not so much frightened as exasperated13. I turned from the tunnel-mouth and groped into the darkness before me. I might as well prospect14 the kind of prison into which I had blundered.
I took three steps — no more. My feet seemed suddenly to go from me and fly upward. So sudden was it that I fell heavy and dead like a log, and my head struck the floor with a crash that for a moment knocked me senseless. I was conscious of something falling on me and of an intolerable pressure on my chest. I struggled for breath, and found my arms and legs pinned and my whole body in a kind of wooden vice7. I was sick with concussion15, and could do nothing but gasp16 and choke down my nausea17. The cut in the back of my head was bleeding freely and that helped to clear my wits, but I lay for a minute or two incapable18 of thought. I shut my eyes tight, as a man does when he is fighting with a swoon.
When I opened them there was light. It came from the left side of the room, the broad glare of a strong electric torch. I watched it stupidly, but it gave me the fillip needed to pick up the threads. I remembered the tunnel now and the Kansas journalist. Then behind the light I saw a face which pulled my flickering19 senses out of the mire20.
I saw the heavy ulster and the cap, which I had realized, though I had not seen, outside in the dark laurels21. They belonged to the journalist, Clarence Donne, the trusted emissary of Blenkiron. But I saw his face now, and it was that face which I had boasted to Bullivant I could never mistake again upon earth. I did not mistake it now, and I remember I had a faint satisfaction that I had made good my word. I had not mistaken it, for I had not had the chance to look at it till this moment. I saw with acid clearness the common denominator of all its disguises — the young man who lisped in the seaside villa22, the stout23 philanthropist of Biggleswick, the pulpy24 panic-stricken creature of the Tube station, the trim French staff officer of the Picardy chateau25 . . . I saw more, for I saw it beyond the need of disguise. I was looking at von Schwabing, the exile, who had done more for Germany than any army commander . . . Mary’s words came back to me —‘the most dangerous man in the world’ . . . I was not afraid, or broken-hearted at failure, or angry — not yet, for I was too dazed and awestruck. I looked at him as one might look at some cataclysm27 of nature which had destroyed a continent.
The face was smiling.
‘I am happy to offer you hospitality at last,’ it said.
I pulled my wits farther out of the mud to attend to him. The cross-bar on my chest pressed less hard and I breathed better. But when I tried to speak, the words would not come.
‘We are old friends,’ he went on. ‘We have known each other quite intimately for four years, which is a long time in war. I have been interested in you, for you have a kind of crude intelligence, and you have compelled me to take you seriously. If you were cleverer you would appreciate the compliment. But you were fool enough to think you could beat me, and for that you must be punished. Oh no, don’t flatter yourself you were ever dangerous. You were only troublesome and presumptuous28 like a mosquito one flicks29 off one’s sleeve.’
He was leaning against the side of a heavy closed door. He lit a cigar from a little gold tinder box and regarded me with amused eyes.
‘You will have time for reflection, so I propose to enlighten you a little. You are an observer of little things. So? Did you ever see a cat with a mouse? The mouse runs about and hides and manoeuvres and thinks it is playing its own game. But at any moment the cat can stretch out its paw and put an end to it. You are the mouse, my poor General — for I believe you are one of those funny amateurs that the English call Generals. At any moment during the last nine months I could have put an end to you with a nod.’
My nausea had stopped and I could understand what he said, though I had still no power to reply.
‘Let me explain,’ he went on. ‘I watched with amusement your gambols31 at Biggleswick. My eyes followed you when you went to the Clyde and in your stupid twistings in Scotland. I gave you rope, because you were futile32, and I had graver things to attend to. I allowed you to amuse yourself at your British Front with childish investigations33 and to play the fool in Paris. I have followed every step of your course in Switzerland, and I have helped your idiotic34 Yankee friend to plot against myself. While you thought you were drawing your net around me, I was drawing mine around you. I assure you, it has been a charming relaxation35 from serious business.’
I knew the man was lying. Some part was true, for he had clearly fooled Blenkiron; but I remembered the hurried flight from Biggleswick and Eaucourt Sainte–Anne when the game was certainly against him. He had me at his mercy, and was wreaking36 his vanity on me. That made him smaller in my eyes, and my first awe26 began to pass.
‘I never cherish rancour, you know,’ he said. ‘In my business it is silly to be angry, for it wastes energy. But I do not tolerate insolence37, my dear General. And my country has the habit of doing justice on her enemies. It may interest you to know that the end is not far off. Germany has faced a jealous world in arms and she is about to be justified38 of her great courage. She has broken up bit by bit the clumsy organization of her opponents. Where is Russia today, the steam-roller that was to crush us? Where is the poor dupe Rumania? Where is the strength of Italy, who was once to do wonders for what she called Liberty? Broken, all of them. I have played my part in that work and now the need is past. My country with free hands is about to turn upon your armed rabble39 in the West and drive it into the Atlantic. Then we shall deal with the ragged40 remains41 of France and the handful of noisy Americans. By midsummer there will be peace dictated42 by triumphant43 Germany.’
‘By God, there won’t!’ I had found my voice at last.
‘By God, there will,’ he said pleasantly. ‘It is what you call a mathematical certainty. You will no doubt die bravely, like the savage44 tribes that your Empire used to conquer. But we have the greater discipline and the stronger spirit and the bigger brain. Stupidity is always punished in the end, and you are a stupid race. Do not think that your kinsmen45 across the Atlantic will save you. They are a commercial people and by no means sure of themselves. When they have blustered46 a little they will see reason and find some means of saving their faces. Their comic President will make a speech or two and write us a solemn note, and we will reply with the serious rhetoric47 which he loves, and then we shall kiss and be friends. You know in your heart that it will be so.’
A great apathy48 seemed to settle on me. This bragging49 did not make me angry, and I had no longer any wish to contradict him. It may have been the result of the fall, but my mind had stopped working. I heard his voice as one listens casually50 to the ticking of a clock.
‘I will tell you more,’ he was saying. ‘This is the evening of the 18th day of March. Your generals in France expect an attack, but they are not sure where it will come. Some think it may be in Champagne51 or on the Aisne, some at Ypres, some at St Quentin. Well, my dear General, you alone will I take into our confidence. On the morning of the 21st, three days from now, we attack the right wing of the British Army. In two days we shall be in Amiens. On the third we shall have driven a wedge as far as the sea. Then in a week or so we shall have rolled up your army from the right, and presently we shall be in Boulogne and Calais. After that Paris falls, and then Peace.’
I made no answer. The word ‘Amiens’ recalled Mary, and I was trying to remember the day in January when she and I had motored south from that pleasant city.
‘Why do I tell you these things? Your intelligence, for you are not altogether foolish, will have supplied the answer. It is because your life is over. As your Shakespeare says, the rest is silence . . . No, I am not going to kill you. That would be crude, and I hate crudities. I am going now on a little journey, and when I return in twenty-four hours’ time you will be my companion. You are going to visit Germany, my dear General.’
That woke me to attention, and he noticed it, for he went on with gusto.
‘You have heard of the Untergrundbahn? No? And you boast of an Intelligence service! Yet your ignorance is shared by the whole of your General Staff. It is a little organization of my own. By it we can take unwilling52 and dangerous people inside our frontier to be dealt with as we please. Some have gone from England and many from France. Officially I believe they are recorded as “missing”, but they did not go astray on any battle-field. They have been gathered from their homes or from hotels or offices or even the busy streets. I will not conceal53 from you that the service of our Underground Railway is a little irregular from England and France. But from Switzerland it is smooth as a trunk line. There are unwatched spots on the frontier, and we have our agents among the frontier guards, and we have no difficulty about passes. It is a pretty device, and you will soon be privileged to observe its working . . . In Germany I cannot promise you comfort, but I do not think your life will be dull.’
As he spoke54 these words, his urbane55 smile changed to a grin of impish malevolence56. Even through my torpor57 I felt the venom58 and I shivered.
‘When I return I shall have another companion.’ His voice was honeyed again. ‘There is a certain pretty lady who was to be the bait to entice59 me into Italy. It was so? Well, I have fallen to the bait. I have arranged that she shall meet me this very night at a mountain inn on the Italian side. I have arranged, too, that she shall be alone. She is an innocent child, and I do not think that she has been more than a tool in the clumsy hands of your friends. She will come with me when I ask her, and we shall be a merry party in the Underground Express.’
My apathy vanished, and every nerve in me was alive at the words.
‘You cur!’ I cried. ‘She loathes60 the sight of you. She wouldn’t touch you with the end of a barge-pole.’
He flicked61 the ash from his cigar. ‘I think you are mistaken. I am very persuasive62, and I do not like to use compulsion with a woman. But, willing or not, she will come with me. I have worked hard and I am entitled to my pleasure, and I have set my heart on that little lady.’
There was something in his tone, gross, leering, assured, half contemptuous, that made my blood boil. He had fairly got me on the raw, and the hammer beat violently in my forehead. I could have wept with sheer rage, and it took all my fortitude63 to keep my mouth shut. But I was determined64 not to add to his triumph.
He looked at his watch. ‘Time passes,’ he said. ‘I must depart to my charming assignation. I will give your remembrances to the lady. Forgive me for making no arrangements for your comfort till I return. Your constitution is so sound that it will not suffer from a day’s fasting. To set your mind at rest I may tell you that escape is impossible. This mechanism65 has been proved too often, and if you did break loose from it my servants would deal with you. But I must speak a word of caution. If you tamper66 with it or struggle too much it will act in a curious way. The floor beneath you covers a shaft67 which runs to the lake below. Set a certain spring at work and you may find yourself shot down into the water far below the ice, where your body will rot till the spring . . . That, of course, is an alternative open to you, if you do not care to wait for my return.’
He lit a fresh cigar, waved his hand, and vanished through the doorway68. As it shut behind him, the sound of his footsteps instantly died away. The walls must have been as thick as a prison’s.
I suppose I was what people in books call ‘stunned’. The illumination during the past few minutes had been so dazzling that my brain could not master it. I remember very clearly that I did not think about the ghastly failure of our scheme, or the German plans which had been insolently69 unfolded to me as to one dead to the world. I saw a single picture — an inn in a snowy valley (I saw it as a small place like Peter’s cottage), a solitary70 girl, that smiling devil who had left me, and then the unknown terror of the Underground Railway. I think my courage went for a bit, and I cried with feebleness and rage. The hammer in my forehead had stopped for it only beat when I was angry in action. Now that I lay trapped, the manhood had slipped out of my joints71, and if Ivery had still been in the doorway, I think I would have whined72 for mercy. I would have offered him all the knowledge I had in the world if he had promised to leave Mary alone.
Happily he wasn’t there, and there was no witness of my cowardice73. Happily, too, it is just as difficult to be a coward for long as to be a hero. It was Blenkiron’s phrase about Mary that pulled me together —‘She can’t scare and she can’t soil’. No, by heavens, she couldn’t. I could trust my lady far better than I could trust myself. I was still sick with anxiety, but I was getting a pull on myself. I was done in, but Ivery would get no triumph out of me. Either I would go under the ice, or I would find a chance of putting a bullet through my head before I crossed the frontier. If I could do nothing else I could perish decently . . . And then I laughed, and I knew I was past the worst. What made me laugh was the thought of Peter. I had been pitying him an hour ago for having only one leg, but now he was abroad in the living, breathing world with years before him, and I lay in the depths, limbless and lifeless, with my number up.
I began to muse30 on the cold water under the ice where I could go if I wanted. I did not think that I would take that road, for a man’s chances are not gone till he is stone dead, but I was glad the way existed . . . And then I looked at the wall in front of me, and, very far up, I saw a small square window.
The stars had been clouded when I entered that accursed house, but the mist must have cleared. I saw my old friend Orion, the hunter’s star, looking through the bars. And that suddenly made me think.
Peter and I had watched them by night, and I knew the place of all the chief constellations74 in relation to the St Anton valley. I believed that I was in a room on the lake side of the Pink Chalet: I must be, if Ivery had spoken the truth. But if so, I could not conceivably see Orion from its window . . . There was no other possible conclusion, I must be in a room on the east side of the house, and Ivery had been lying. He had already lied in his boasting of how he had outwitted me in England and at the Front. He might be lying about Mary . . . No, I dismissed that hope. Those words of his had rung true enough.
I thought for a minute and concluded that he had lied to terrorize me and keep me quiet; therefore this infernal contraption had probably its weak point. I reflected, too, that I was pretty strong, far stronger probably than Ivery imagined, for he had never seen me stripped. Since the place was pitch dark I could not guess how the thing worked, but I could feel the cross-bars rigid75 on my chest and legs and the side-bars which pinned my arms to my sides . . . I drew a long breath and tried to force my elbows apart. Nothing moved, nor could I raise the bars on my legs the smallest fraction.
Again I tried, and again. The side-bar on my right seemed to be less rigid than the others. I managed to get my right hand raised above the level of my thigh76, and then with a struggle I got a grip with it on the cross-bar, which gave me a small leverage77. With a mighty78 effort I drove my right elbow and shoulder against the side-bar. It seemed to give slightly . . . I summoned all my strength and tried again. There was a crack and then a splintering, the massive bar shuffled79 limply back, and my right arm was free to move laterally80, though the cross-bar prevented me from raising it.
With some difficulty I got at my coat pocket where reposed81 my electric torch and my pistol. With immense labour and no little pain I pulled the former out and switched it on by drawing the catch against the cross-bar. Then I saw my prison house.
It was a little square chamber82, very high, with on my left the massive door by which Ivery had departed. The dark baulks of my rack were plain, and I could roughly make out how the thing had been managed. Some spring had tilted83 up the flooring, and dropped the framework from its place in the right-hand wall. It was clamped, I observed, by an arrangement in the floor just in front of the door. If I could get rid of that catch it would be easy to free myself, for to a man of my strength the weight would not be impossibly heavy.
My fortitude had come back to me, and I was living only in the moment, choking down any hope of escape. My first job was to destroy the catch that clamped down the rack, and for that my only weapon was my pistol. I managed to get the little electric torch jammed in the corner of the cross-bar, where it lit up the floor towards the door. Then it was hell’s own business extricating84 the pistol from my pocket. Wrist and fingers were always cramping85, and I was in terror that I might drop it where I could not retrieve86 it.
I forced myself to think out calmly the question of the clamp, for a pistol bullet is a small thing, and I could not afford to miss. I reasoned it out from my knowledge of mechanics, and came to the conclusion that the centre of gravity was a certain bright spot of metal which I could just see under the cross-bars. It was bright and so must have been recently repaired, and that was another reason for thinking it important. The question was how to hit it, for I could not get the pistol in line with my eye. Let anyone try that kind of shooting, with a bent87 arm over a bar, when you are lying flat and looking at the mark from under the bar, and he will understand its difficulties. I had six shots in my revolver, and I must fire two or three ranging shots in any case. I must not exhaust all my cartridges88, for I must have a bullet left for any servant who came to pry89, and I wanted one in reserve for myself. But I did not think shots would be heard outside the room; the walls were too thick.
I held my wrist rigid above the cross-bar and fired. The bullet was an inch to the right of the piece of bright steel. Moving a fraction I fired again. I had grazed it on the left. With aching eyes glued on the mark, I tried a third time. I saw something leap apart, and suddenly the whole framework under which I lay fell loose and mobile . . . I was very cool and restored the pistol to my pocket and took the torch in my hand before I moved . . . Fortune had been kind, for I was free. I turned on my face, humped my back, and without much trouble crawled out from under the contraption.
I did not allow myself to think of ultimate escape, for that would only flurry me, and one step at a time was enough. I remember that I dusted my clothes, and found that the cut in the back of my head had stopped bleeding. I retrieved90 my hat, which had rolled into a corner when I fell . . . Then I turned my attention to the next step.
The tunnel was impossible, and the only way was the door. If I had stopped to think I would have known that the chances against getting out of such a house were a thousand to one. The pistol shots had been muffled91 by the cavernous walls, but the place, as I knew, was full of servants and, even if I passed the immediate92 door, I would be collared in some passage. But I had myself so well in hand that I tackled the door as if I had been prospecting93 to sink a new shaft in Rhodesia.
It had no handle nor, so far as I could see, a keyhole . . . But I noticed, as I turned my torch on the ground, that from the clamp which I had shattered a brass94 rod sunk in the floor led to one of the door-posts. Obviously the thing worked by a spring and was connected with the mechanism of the rack.
A wild thought entered my mind and brought me to my feet. I pushed the door and it swung slowly open. The bullet which freed me had released the spring which controlled it.
Then for the first time, against all my maxims95 of discretion96, I began to hope. I took off my hat and felt my forehead burning, so that I rested it for a moment on the cool wall . . . Perhaps my luck still held. With a rush came thoughts of Mary and Blenkiron and Peter and everything we had laboured for, and I was mad to win.
I had no notion of the interior of the house or where lay the main door to the outer world. My torch showed me a long passage with something like a door at the far end, but I clicked it off, for I did not dare to use it now. The place was deadly quiet. As I listened I seemed to hear a door open far away, and then silence fell again.
I groped my way down the passage till I had my hands on the far door. I hoped it might open on the hall, where I could escape by a window or a balcony, for I judged the outer door would be locked. I listened, and there came no sound from within. It was no use lingering, so very stealthily I turned the handle and opened it a crack.
It creaked and I waited with beating heart on discovery, for inside I saw the glow of light. But there was no movement, so it must be empty. I poked97 my head in and then followed with my body.
It was a large room, with logs burning in a stove, and the floor thick with rugs. It was lined with books, and on a table in the centre a reading-lamp was burning. Several dispatch-boxes stood on the table, and there was a little pile of papers. A man had been here a minute before, for a half-smoked cigar was burning on the edge of the inkstand.
At that moment I recovered complete use of my wits and all my self-possession. More, there returned to me some of the old devil-may-careness which before had served me well. Ivery had gone, but this was his sanctum. Just as on the roofs of Erzerum I had burned to get at Stumm’s papers, so now it was borne in on me that at all costs I must look at that pile.
I advanced to the table and picked up the topmost paper. It was a little typewritten blue slip with the lettering in italics, and in a corner a curious, involved stamp in red ink. On it I read:
‘Die Wildvogel missen beimkehren.’
At the same moment I heard steps and the door opened on the far side, I stepped back towards the stove, and fingered the pistol in my pocket.
A man entered, a man with a scholar’s stoop, an unkempt beard, and large sleepy dark eyes. At the sight of me he pulled up and his whole body grew taut98. It was the Portuguese99 Jew, whose back I had last seen at the smithy door in Skye, and who by the mercy of God had never seen my face.
I stopped fingering my pistol, for I had an inspiration. Before he could utter a word I got in first.
‘Die Vogelein schwei igem im Walde,’ I said.
His face broke into a pleasant smile, and he replied:
‘Warte nur, balde rubest du auch.’
‘Ach,’ he said in German, holding out his hand, ‘you have come this way, when we thought you would go by Modane. I welcome you, for I know your exploits. You are Conradi, who did so nobly in Italy?’
I bowed. ‘Yes, I am Conradi,’ I said.
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deviate
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| v.(from)背离，偏离 | |
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shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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suffocated
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| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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concussion
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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incapable
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flickering
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mire
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laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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pulpy
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| 果肉状的，多汁的，柔软的； 烂糊； 稀烂 | |
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chateau
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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cataclysm
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presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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flicks
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的第三人称单数 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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31
gambols
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| v.蹦跳，跳跃，嬉戏( gambol的第三人称单数 ) | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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33
investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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wreaking
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| 诉诸（武力），施行（暴力），发（脾气）( wreak的现在分词 ) | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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39
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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40
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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41
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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42
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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45
kinsmen
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| n.家属，亲属( kinsman的名词复数 ) | |
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46
blustered
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| v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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47
rhetoric
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| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
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48
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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49
bragging
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的现在分词 )；大话 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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51
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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52
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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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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urbane
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| adj.温文尔雅的，懂礼的 | |
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malevolence
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| n.恶意，狠毒 | |
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57
torpor
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| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
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venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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entice
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| v.诱骗，引诱，怂恿 | |
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loathes
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的第三人称单数 )；极不喜欢 | |
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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tamper
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| v.干预，玩弄，贿赂，窜改，削弱，损害 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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insolently
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| adv.自豪地，自傲地 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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74
constellations
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| n.星座( constellation的名词复数 )；一群杰出人物；一系列（相关的想法、事物）；一群（相关的人） | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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76
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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77
leverage
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| n.力量，影响；杠杆作用，杠杆的力量 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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79
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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laterally
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| ad.横向地；侧面地；旁边地 | |
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81
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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82
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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83
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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84
extricating
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| v.使摆脱困难，脱身( extricate的现在分词 ) | |
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85
cramping
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| 图像压缩 | |
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86
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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87
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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88
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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89
pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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90
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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91
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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92
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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93
prospecting
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| n.探矿 | |
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94
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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95
maxims
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| n.格言，座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
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96
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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97
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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98
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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99
Portuguese
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| n.葡萄牙人；葡萄牙语 | |
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