Under cover of the tangled2 shrubbery, they crawled unseen to the little door through which Joan de Tany had led him the night before. Following the corridors and vaults3 beneath the castle, they came to the stone stairway, and mounted to the passage which led to the false panel that had given the two fugitives4 egress5.
Slipping the spring lock, Norman of Torn entered the apartment followed closely by his henchmen. On they went, through apartment after apartment, but no sign of the Earl or his servitors rewarded their search, and it was soon apparent that the castle was deserted6.
As they came forth7 into the courtyard, they descried8 an old man basking9 in the sun, upon a bench. The sight of them nearly caused the old fellow to die of fright, for to see fifty armed men issue from the untenanted halls was well reckoned to blanch10 even a braver cheek.
When Norman of Torn questioned him, he learned that De Fulm had ridden out early in the day bound for Dover, where Prince Edward then was. The outlaw11 knew it would be futile12 to pursue him, but yet, so fierce was his anger against this man, that he ordered his band to mount, and spurring to their head, he marched through Middlesex, and crossing the Thames above London, entered Surrey late the same afternoon.
As they were going into camp that night in Kent, midway between London and Rochester, word came to Norman of Torn that the Earl of Buckingham, having sent his escort on to Dover, had stopped to visit the wife of a royalist baron13, whose husband was with Prince Edward's forces.
The fellow who gave this information was a servant in my lady's household who held a grudge14 against his mistress for some wrong she had done him. When, therefore, he found that these grim men were searching for De Fulm, he saw a way to be revenged upon his mistress.
“How many swords be there at the castle?” asked Norman of Torn.
“Scarce a dozen, barring the Earl of Buckingham,” replied the knave15; “and, furthermore, there be a way to enter, which I may show you, My Lord, so that you may, unseen, reach the apartment where My Lady and the Earl be supping.”
“Bring ten men, beside yourself, Shandy,” commanded Norman of Torn. “We shall pay a little visit upon our amorous16 friend, My Lord, the Earl of Buckingham.”
Half an hour's ride brought them within sight of the castle. Dismounting, and leaving their horses with one of the men, Norman of Torn advanced on foot with Shandy and the eight others, close in the wake of the traitorous17 servant.
The fellow led them to the rear of the castle, where, among the brush, he had hidden a rude ladder, which, when tilted18, spanned the moat and rested its farther end upon a window ledge19 some ten feet above the ground.
“Keep the fellow here till last, Shandy,” said the outlaw, “till all be in, an' if there be any signs of treachery, stick him through the gizzard—death thus be slower and more painful.”
So saying, Norman of Torn crept boldly across the improvised20 bridge, and disappeared within the window beyond. One by one the band of cut-throats passed through the little window, until all stood within the castle beside their chief; Shandy coming last with the servant.
“Lead me quietly, knave, to the room where My Lord sups,” said Norman of Torn. “You, Shandy, place your men where they can prevent my being interrupted.”
Following a moment or two after Shandy came another figure stealthily across the ladder and, as Norman of Torn and his followers21 left the little room, this figure pushed quietly through the window and followed the great outlaw down the unlighted corridor.
A moment later, My Lady of Leybourn looked up from her plate upon the grim figure of an armored knight22 standing23 in the doorway24 of the great dining hall.
“My Lord Earl!” she cried. “Look! Behind you.”
And as the Earl of Buckingham glanced behind him, he overturned the bench upon which he sat in his effort to gain his feet; for My Lord Earl of Buckingham had a guilty conscience.
The grim figure raised a restraining hand, as the Earl drew his sword.
“A moment, My Lord,” said a low voice in perfect French.
“Who are you?” cried the lady.
“I be an old friend of My Lord, here; but let me tell you a little story.
“In a grim old castle in Essex, only last night, a great lord of England held by force the beautiful daughter of a noble house and, when she spurned25 his advances, he struck her with his clenched26 fist upon her fair face, and with his brute27 hands choked her. And in that castle also was a despised and hunted outlaw, with a price upon his head, for whose neck the hempen28 noose29 has been yawning these many years. And it was this vile30 person who came in time to save the young woman from the noble flower of knighthood that would have ruined her young life.
“The outlaw wished to kill the knight, but many men-at-arms came to the noble's rescue, and so the outlaw was forced to fly with the girl lest he be overcome by numbers, and the girl thus fall again into the hands of her tormentor31.
“But this crude outlaw was not satisfied with merely rescuing the girl, he must needs mete32 out justice to her noble abductor and collect in full the toll33 of blood which alone can atone34 for the insult and violence done her.
“My Lady, the young girl was Joan de Tany; the noble was My Lord the Earl of Buckingham; and the outlaw stands before you to fulfill35 the duty he has sworn to do. En garde, My Lord!”
The encounter was short, for Norman of Torn had come to kill, and he had been looking through a haze36 of blood for hours—in fact every time he had thought of those brutal37 fingers upon the fair throat of Joan de Tany and of the cruel blow that had fallen upon her face.
He showed no mercy, but backed the Earl relentlessly38 into a corner of the room, and when he had him there where he could escape in no direction, he drove his blade so deep through his putrid39 heart that the point buried itself an inch in the oak panel beyond.
Claudia Leybourn sat frozen with horror at the sight she was witnessing, and, as Norman of Torn wrenched40 his blade from the dead body before him and wiped it on the rushes of the floor, she gazed in awful fascination41 while he drew his dagger42 and made a mark upon the forehead of the dead nobleman.
“Outlaw or Devil,” said a stern voice behind them, “Roger Leybourn owes you his friendship for saving the honor of his home.”
Both turned to discover a mail-clad figure standing in the doorway where Norman of Torn had first appeared.
“Who be you?” continued the master of Leybourn addressing the outlaw.
For answer Norman of Torn pointed44 to the forehead of the dead Earl of Buckingham, and there Roger Leybourn saw, in letters of blood, NT.
The Baron advanced with outstretched hand.
“I owe you much. You have saved my poor, silly wife from this beast, and Joan de Tany is my cousin, so I am doubly beholden to you, Norman of Torn.”
The outlaw pretended that he did not see the hand.
“You owe me nothing, Sir Roger, that may not be paid by a good supper. I have eaten but once in forty-eight hours.”
The outlaw now called to Shandy and his men, telling them to remain on watch, but to interfere45 with no one within the castle.
He then sat at the table with Roger Leybourn and his lady, who had recovered from her swoon, and behind them on the rushes of the floor lay the body of De Fulm in a little pool of blood.
Leybourn told them that he had heard that De Fulm was at his home, and had hastened back; having been in hiding about the castle for half an hour before the arrival of Norman of Torn, awaiting an opportunity to enter unobserved by the servants. It was he who had followed across the ladder after Shandy.
The outlaw spent the night at the castle of Roger Leybourn; for the first time within his memory a welcomed guest under his true name at the house of a gentleman.
The following morning, he bade his host goodbye, and returning to his camp started on his homeward march toward Torn.
Near midday, as they were approaching the Thames near the environs of London, they saw a great concourse of people hooting46 and jeering47 at a small party of gentlemen and gentlewomen.
Some of the crowd were armed, and from very force of numbers were waxing brave to lay violent hands upon the party. Mud and rocks and rotten vegetables were being hurled48 at the little cavalcade49, many of them barely missing the women of the party.
Norman of Torn waited to ask no questions, but spurring into the thick of it laid right and left of him with the flat of his sword, and his men, catching50 the contagion51 of it, swarmed52 after him until the whole pack of attacking ruffians were driven into the Thames.
And then, without a backward glance at the party he had rescued, he continued on his march toward the north.
The little party sat upon their horses looking in wonder after the retreating figures of their deliverers. Then one of the ladies turned to a knight at her side with a word of command and an imperious gesture toward the fast disappearing company. He, thus addressed, put spurs to his horse, and rode at a rapid gallop54 after the outlaw's troop. In a few moments he had overtaken them and reined55 up beside Norman of Torn.
“Hold, Sir Knight,” cried the gentleman, “the Queen would thank you in person for your brave defence of her.”
Ever keen to see the humor of a situation, Norman of Torn wheeled his horse and rode back with the Queen's messenger.
“You be a strange knight that thinks so lightly on saving a queen's life that you ride on without turning your head, as though you had but driven a pack of curs from annoying a stray cat,” said the Queen.
“I drew in the service of a woman, Your Majesty, not in the service of a queen.”
“What now! Wouldst even belittle59 the act which we all witnessed? The King, my husband, shall reward thee, Sir Knight, if you but tell me your name.”
“If I told my name, methinks the King would be more apt to hang me,” laughed the outlaw. “I be Norman of Torn.”
The entire party looked with startled astonishment60 upon him, for none of them had ever seen this bold raider whom all the nobility and gentry61 of England feared and hated.
“For lesser62 acts than that which thou hast just performed, the King has pardoned men before,” replied Her Majesty. “But raise your visor, I would look upon the face of so notorious a criminal who can yet be a gentleman and a loyal protector of his queen.”
“They who have looked upon my face, other than my friends,” replied Norman of Torn quietly, “have never lived to tell what they saw beneath this visor, and as for you, Madame, I have learned within the year to fear it might mean unhappiness to you to see the visor of the Devil of Torn lifted from his face.” Without another word he wheeled and galloped63 back to his little army.
And so the Outlaw of Torn and his mother met and parted after a period of twenty years.
Two days later, Norman of Torn directed Red Shandy to lead the forces of Torn from their Essex camp back to Derby. The numerous raiding parties which had been constantly upon the road during the days they had spent in this rich district had loaded the extra sumpter beasts with rich and valuable booty and the men, for the time satiated with fighting and loot, turned their faces toward Torn with evident satisfaction.
The outlaw was speaking to his captains in council; at his side the old man of Torn.
“Ride by easy stages, Shandy, and I will overtake you by tomorrow morning. I but ride for a moment to the castle of De Tany on an errand, and, as I shall stop there but a few moments, I shall surely join you tomorrow.”
“Do not forget, My Lord,” said Edwild the Serf, a great yellow-haired Saxon giant, “that there be a party of the King's troops camped close by the road which branches to Tany.”
“I shall give them plenty of room,” replied Norman of Torn. “My neck itcheth not to be stretched,” and he laughed and mounted.
Five minutes after he had cantered down the road from camp, Spizo the Spaniard, sneaking65 his horse unseen into the surrounding forest, mounted and spurred rapidly after him. The camp, in the throes of packing refractory66, half broken sumpter animals, and saddling their own wild mounts, did not notice his departure. Only the little grim, gray, old man knew that he had gone, or why, or whither.
That afternoon, as Roger de Conde was admitted to the castle of Richard de Tany and escorted to a little room where he awaited the coming of the Lady Joan, a swarthy messenger handed a letter to the captain of the King's soldiers camped a few miles south of Tany.
The officer tore open the seal as the messenger turned and spurred back in the direction from which he had come.
And this was what he read:
Norman of Torn is now at the castle of Tany, without escort.
Instantly the call “to arms” and “mount” sounded through the camp and, in five minutes, a hundred mercenaries galloped rapidly toward the castle of Richard de Tany, in the visions of their captain a great reward and honor and preferment for the capture of the mighty67 outlaw who was now almost within his clutches.
Three roads meet at Tany; one from the south along which the King's soldiers were now riding; one from the west which had guided Norman of Torn from his camp to the castle; and a third which ran northwest through Cambridge and Huntingdon toward Derby.
All unconscious of the rapidly approaching foes68, Norman of Torn waited composedly in the anteroom for Joan de Tany.
Presently she entered, clothed in the clinging house garment of the period; a beautiful vision, made more beautiful by the suppressed excitement which caused the blood to surge beneath the velvet69 of her cheek, and her breasts to rise and fall above her fast beating heart.
She let him take her fingers in his and raise them to his lips, and then they stood looking into each other's eyes in silence for a long moment.
“I do not know how to tell you what I have come to tell,” he said sadly. “I have not meant to deceive you to your harm, but the temptation to be with you and those whom you typify must be my excuse. I—” He paused. It was easy to tell her that he was the Outlaw of Torn, but if she loved him, as he feared, how was he to tell her that he loved only Bertrade de Montfort?
“You need tell me nothing,” interrupted Joan de Tany. “I have guessed what you would tell me, Norman of Torn. 'The spell of moonlight and adventure is no longer upon us'—those are your own words, and still I am glad to call you friend.”
The little emphasis she put upon the last word bespoke70 the finality of her decision that the Outlaw of Torn could be no more than friend to her.
“It is best,” he replied, relieved that, as he thought, she felt no love for him now that she knew him for what he really was. “Nothing good could come to such as you, Joan, if the Devil of Torn could claim more of you than friendship; and so I think that for your peace of mind and for my own, we will let it be as though you had never known me. I thank you that you have not been angry with me. Remember me only to think that in the hills of Derby, a sword is at your service, without reward and without price. Should you ever need it, Joan, tell me that you will send for me—wilt promise me that, Joan?”
“I promise, Norman of Torn.”
“Farewell,” he said, and as he again kissed her hand he bent his knee to the ground in reverence72. Then he rose to go, pressing a little packet into her palm. Their eyes met, and the man saw, in that brief instant, deep in the azure73 depths of the girl's that which tumbled the structure of his new-found complacency about his ears.
As he rode out into the bright sunlight upon the road which led northwest toward Derby, Norman of Torn bowed his head in sorrow, for he realized two things. One was that the girl he had left still loved him, and that some day, mayhap tomorrow, she would suffer because she had sent him away; and the other was that he did not love her, that his heart was locked in the fair breast of Bertrade de Montfort.
He felt himself a beast that he had allowed his loneliness and the aching sorrow of his starved, empty heart to lead him into this girl's life. That he had been new to women and newer still to love did not permit him to excuse himself, and a hundred times he cursed his folly74 and stupidity, and what he thought was fickleness75.
But the unhappy affair had taught him one thing for certain: to know without question what love was, and that the memory of Bertrade de Montfort's lips would always be more to him than all the allurements76 possessed77 by the balance of the women of the world, no matter how charming, or how beautiful.
Another thing, a painful thing he had learned from it, too, that the attitude of Joan de Tany, daughter of an old and noble house, was but the attitude which the Outlaw of Torn must expect from any good woman of her class; what he must expect from Bertrade de Montfort when she learned that Roger de Conde was Norman of Torn.
The outlaw had scarce passed out of sight upon the road to Derby ere the girl, who still stood in an embrasure of the south tower, gazing with strangely drawn78, sad face up the road which had swallowed him, saw a body of soldiers galloping79 rapidly toward Tany from the south.
The King's banner waved above their heads, and intuitively, Joan de Tany knew for whom they sought at her father's castle. Quickly she hastened to the outer barbican that it might be she who answered their hail rather than one of the men-at-arms on watch there.
She had scarcely reached the ramparts of the outer gate ere the King's men drew rein56 before the castle.
In reply to their hail, Joan de Tany asked their mission.
“We seek the outlaw, Norman of Torn, who hides now within this castle,” replied the officer.
“There be no outlaw here,” replied the girl, “but, if you wish, you may enter with half a dozen men and search the castle.”
This the officer did and, when he had assured himself that Norman of Torn was not within, an hour had passed, and Joan de Tany felt certain that the Outlaw of Torn was too far ahead to be caught by the King's men; so she said:
“There was one here just before you came who called himself though by another name than Norman of Torn. Possibly it is he ye seek.”
“Which way rode he?” cried the officer.
“Straight toward the west by the middle road,” lied Joan de Tany. And, as the officer hurried from the castle and, with his men at his back, galloped furiously away toward the west, the girl sank down upon a bench, pressing her little hands to her throbbing80 temples.
Then she opened the packet which Norman of Torn had handed her, and within found two others. In one of these was a beautiful jeweled locket, and on the outside were the initials JT, and on the inside the initials NT; in the other was a golden hair ornament81 set with precious stones, and about it was wound a strand82 of her own silken tresses.
She looked long at the little trinkets and then, pressing them against her lips, she threw herself face down upon an oaken bench, her lithe83 young form racked with sobs84.
She was indeed but a little girl chained by the inexorable bonds of caste to a false ideal. Birth and station spelled honor to her, and honor, to the daughter of an English noble, was a mightier85 force even than love.
That Norman of Torn was an outlaw she might have forgiven, but that he was, according to report, a low fellow of no birth placed an impassable barrier between them.
For hours the girl lay sobbing86 upon the bench, whilst within her raged the mighty battle of the heart against the head.
Thus her mother found her, and kneeling beside her, and with her arms about the girl's neck, tried to soothe87 her and to learn the cause of her sorrow. Finally it came, poured from the flood gates of a sorrowing heart; that wave of bitter misery88 and hopelessness which not even a mother's love could check.
“Joan, my dear daughter,” cried Lady de Tany, “I sorrow with thee that thy love has been cast upon so bleak89 and impossible a shore. But it be better that thou hast learnt the truth ere it were too late; for, take my word upon it, Joan, the bitter humiliation90 such an alliance must needs have brought upon thee and thy father's house would soon have cooled thy love; nor could his have survived the sneers91 and affronts92 even the menials would have put upon him.”
“Oh, mother, but I love him so,” moaned the girl. “I did not know how much until he had gone, and the King's officer had come to search for him, and then the thought that all the power of a great throne and the mightiest93 houses of an entire kingdom were turned in hatred94 against him raised the hot blood of anger within me and the knowledge of my love surged through all my being. Mother, thou canst not know the honor, and the bravery, and the chivalry95 of the man as I do. Not since Arthur of Silures kept his round table hath ridden forth upon English soil so true a knight as Norman of Torn.
“Couldst thou but have seen him fight, my mother, and witnessed the honor of his treatment of thy daughter, and heard the tone of dignified96 respect in which he spoke71 of women thou wouldst have loved him, too, and felt that outlaw though he be, he is still more a gentleman than nine-tenths the nobles of England.”
“But his birth, my daughter!” argued the Lady de Tany. “Some even say that the gall53 marks of his brass97 collar still showeth upon his neck, and others that he knoweth not himself the name of his own father, nor had he any mother.”
Ah, but this was the mighty argument! Naught98 could the girl say to justify99 so heinous100 a crime as low birth. What a man did in those rough cruel days might be forgotten and forgiven but the sins of his mother or his grandfather in not being of noble blood, no matter howsoever wickedly attained101, he might never overcome or live down.
Torn by conflicting emotions, the poor girl dragged herself to her own apartment and there upon a restless, sleepless102 couch, beset103 by wild, impossible hopes, and vain, torturing regrets, she fought out the long, bitter night; until toward morning she solved the problem of her misery in the only way that seemed possible to her poor, tired, bleeding, little heart. When the rising sun shone through the narrow window, it found Joan de Tany at peace with all about her; the carved golden hilt of the toy that had hung at her girdle protruded104 from her breast, and a thin line of crimson105 ran across the snowy skin to a little pool upon the sheet beneath her.
And so the cruel hand of a mighty revenge had reached out to crush another innocent victim.
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1
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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2
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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3
vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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egress
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| n.出去；出口 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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7
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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descried
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| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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blanch
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| v.漂白；使变白；使(植物)不见日光而变白 | |
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outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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traitorous
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| adj. 叛国的, 不忠的, 背信弃义的 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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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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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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spurned
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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hempen
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| adj. 大麻制的, 大麻的 | |
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noose
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| n.绳套，绞索（刑）；v.用套索捉；使落入圈套；处以绞刑 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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tormentor
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| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
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mete
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| v.分配；给予 | |
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toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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fulfill
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| vt.履行，实现，完成；满足，使满意 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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relentlessly
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| adv.不屈不挠地；残酷地；不间断 | |
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putrid
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| adj.腐臭的；有毒的；已腐烂的；卑劣的 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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42
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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43
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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45
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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46
hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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47
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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48
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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49
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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50
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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51
contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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52
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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53
gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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54
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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55
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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56
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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57
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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58
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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59
belittle
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| v.轻视，小看，贬低 | |
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60
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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61
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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62
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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63
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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64
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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65
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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66
refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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68
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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69
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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71
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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72
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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73
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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74
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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75
fickleness
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| n.易变；无常；浮躁；变化无常 | |
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76
allurements
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| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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78
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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81
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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82
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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83
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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84
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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85
mightier
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| adj. 强有力的，强大的，巨大的 adv. 很，极其 | |
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86
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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87
soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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88
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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89
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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90
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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91
sneers
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| 讥笑的表情（言语）( sneer的名词复数 ) | |
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92
affronts
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| n.（当众）侮辱，（故意）冒犯( affront的名词复数 )v.勇敢地面对( affront的第三人称单数 )；相遇 | |
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93
mightiest
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| adj.趾高气扬( mighty的最高级 )；巨大的；强有力的；浩瀚的 | |
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94
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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95
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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96
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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97
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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98
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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99
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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100
heinous
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| adj.可憎的，十恶不赦的 | |
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101
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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102
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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103
beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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104
protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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105
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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