The next morning at breakfast Tarzan's place was vacant. Miss Strong was mildly curious, for Mr. Caldwell had always made it a point to wait that he might breakfast with her and her mother. As she was sitting on deck later Monsieur Thuran paused to exchange a half dozen pleasant words with her. He seemed in most excellent spirits—his manner was the extreme of affability. As he passed on Miss Strong thought what a very delightful2 man was Monsieur Thuran.
The day dragged heavily. She missed the quiet companionship of Mr. Caldwell—there had been something about him that had made the girl like him from the first; he had talked so entertainingly of the places he had seen—the peoples and their customs—the wild beasts; and he had always had a droll3 way of drawing striking comparisons between savage4 animals and civilized5 men that showed a considerable knowledge of the former, and a keen, though somewhat cynical6, estimate of the latter.
When Monsieur Thuran stopped again to chat with her in the afternoon she welcomed the break in the day's monotony. But she had begun to become seriously concerned in Mr. Caldwell's continued absence; somehow she constantly associated it with the start she had had the night before, when the dark object fell past her port into the sea. Presently she broached7 the subject to Monsieur Thuran. Had he seen Mr. Caldwell today? He had not. Why?
"He was not at breakfast as usual, nor have I seen him once since yesterday," explained the girl.
Monsieur Thuran was extremely solicitous8.
"I did not have the pleasure of intimate acquaintance with Mr. Caldwell," he said. "He seemed a most estimable gentleman, however. Can it be that he is indisposed, and has remained in his stateroom? It would not be strange."
"No," replied the girl, "it would not be strange, of course; but for some inexplicable9 reason I have one of those foolish feminine presentiments10 that all is not right with Mr. Caldwell. It is the strangest feeling—it is as though I knew that he was not on board the ship."
Monsieur Thuran laughed pleasantly. "Mercy, my dear Miss Strong," he said; "where in the world could he be then? We have not been within sight of land for days."
"Of course, it is ridiculous of me," she admitted. And then: "But I am not going to worry about it any longer; I am going to find out where Mr. Caldwell is," and she motioned to a passing steward11.
"That may be more difficult than you imagine, my dear girl," thought Monsieur Thuran, but aloud he said: "By all means."
"Find Mr. Caldwell, please," she said to the steward, "and tell him that his friends are much worried by his continued absence."
"You are very fond of Mr. Caldwell?" suggested Monsieur Thuran.
"I think he is splendid," replied the girl. "And mamma is perfectly12 infatuated with him. He is the sort of man with whom one has a feeling of perfect security—no one could help but have confidence in Mr. Caldwell."
A moment later the steward returned to say that Mr. Caldwell was not in his stateroom. "I cannot find him, Miss Strong, and"—he hesitated—"I have learned that his berth13 was not occupied last night. I think that I had better report the matter to the captain."
"Most assuredly," exclaimed Miss Strong. "I shall go with you to the captain myself. It is terrible! I know that something awful has happened. My presentiments were not false, after all."
It was a very frightened young woman and an excited steward who presented themselves before the captain a few moments later. He listened to their stories in silence—a look of concern marking his expression as the steward assured him that he had sought for the missing passenger in every part of the ship that a passenger might be expected to frequent.
"And are you sure, Miss Strong, that you saw a body fall overboard last night?" he asked.
"There is not the slightest doubt about that," she answered. "I cannot say that it was a human body—there was no outcry. It might have been only what I thought it was—a bundle of refuse. But if Mr. Caldwell is not found on board I shall always be positive that it was he whom I saw fall past my port."
The captain ordered an immediate14 and thorough search of the entire ship from stem to stern—no nook or cranny was to be overlooked. Miss Strong remained in his cabin, waiting the outcome of the quest. The captain asked her many questions, but she could tell him nothing about the missing man other than what she had herself seen during their brief acquaintance on shipboard. For the first time she suddenly realized how very little indeed Mr. Caldwell had told her about himself or his past life. That he had been born in Africa and educated in Paris was about all she knew, and this meager15 information had been the result of her surprise that an Englishman should speak English with such a marked French accent.
"Did he ever speak of any enemies?" asked the captain.
"Never."
"Was he acquainted with any of the other passengers?"
"Only as he had been with me—through the circumstance of casual meeting as fellow shipmates."
"Er—was he, in your opinion, Miss Strong, a man who drank to excess?"
"I do not know that he drank at all—he certainly had not been drinking up to half an hour before I saw that body fall overboard," she answered, "for I was with him on deck up to that time."
"It is very strange," said the captain. "He did not look to me like a man who was subject to fainting spells, or anything of that sort. And even had he been it is scarcely credible16 that he should have fallen completely over the rail had he been taken with an attack while leaning upon it—he would rather have fallen inside, upon the deck. If he is not on board, Miss Strong, he was thrown overboard—and the fact that you heard no outcry would lead to the assumption that he was dead before he left the ship's deck—murdered."
It was a full hour later that the first officer returned to report the outcome of the search.
"Mr. Caldwell is not on board, sir," he said.
"I fear that there is something more serious than accident here, Mr. Brently," said the captain. "I wish that you would make a personal and very careful examination of Mr. Caldwell's effects, to ascertain19 if there is any clew to a motive20 either for suicide or murder—sift the thing to the bottom."
"Aye, aye, sir!" responded Mr. Brently, and left to commence his investigation21.
Hazel Strong was prostrated22. For two days she did not leave her cabin, and when she finally ventured on deck she was very wan23 and white, with great, dark circles beneath her eyes. Waking or sleeping, it seemed that she constantly saw that dark body dropping, swift and silent, into the cold, grim sea.
Shortly after her first appearance on deck following the tragedy, Monsieur Thuran joined her with many expressions of kindly25 solicitude26.
"Oh, but it is terrible, Miss Strong," he said. "I cannot rid my mind of it."
"Nor I," said the girl wearily. "I feel that he might have been saved had I but given the alarm."
"You must not reproach yourself, my dear Miss Strong," urged Monsieur Thuran. "It was in no way your fault. Another would have done as you did. Who would think that because something fell into the sea from a ship that it must necessarily be a man? Nor would the outcome have been different had you given an alarm. For a while they would have doubted your story, thinking it but the nervous hallucination of a woman—had you insisted it would have been too late to have rescued him by the time the ship could have been brought to a stop, and the boats lowered and rowed back miles in search of the unknown spot where the tragedy had occurred. No, you must not censure27 yourself. You have done more than any other of us for poor Mr. Caldwell—you were the only one to miss him. It was you who instituted the search."
The girl could not help but feel grateful to him for his kind and encouraging words. He was with her often—almost constantly for the remainder of the voyage—and she grew to like him very much indeed. Monsieur Thuran had learned that the beautiful Miss Strong, of Baltimore, was an American heiress—a very wealthy girl in her own right, and with future prospects29 that quite took his breath away when he contemplated30 them, and since he spent most of his time in that delectable31 pastime it is a wonder that he breathed at all.
It had been Monsieur Thuran's intention to leave the ship at the first port they touched after the disappearance32 of Tarzan. Did he not have in his coat pocket the thing he had taken passage upon this very boat to obtain? There was nothing more to detain him here. He could not return to the Continent fast enough, that he might board the first express for St. Petersburg.
But now another idea had obtruded33 itself, and was rapidly crowding his original intentions into the background. That American fortune was not to be sneezed at, nor was its possessor a whit24 less attractive.
"SAPRISTI! but she would cause a sensation in St. Petersburg." And he would, too, with the assistance of her inheritance.
After Monsieur Thuran had squandered34 a few million dollars, he discovered that the vocation35 was so entirely36 to his liking37 that he would continue on down to Cape38 Town, where he suddenly decided39 that he had pressing engagements that might detain him there for some time.
Miss Strong had told him that she and her mother were to visit the latter's brother there—they had not decided upon the duration of their stay, and it would probably run into months.
She was delighted when she found that Monsieur Thuran was to be there also.
"I hope that we shall be able to continue our acquaintance," she said. "You must call upon mamma and me as soon as we are settled."
Monsieur Thuran was delighted at the prospect28, and lost no time in saying so. Mrs. Strong was not quite so favorably impressed by him as her daughter.
"I do not know why I should distrust him," she said to Hazel one day as they were discussing him. "He seems a perfect gentleman in every respect, but sometimes there is something about his eyes—a fleeting40 expression which I cannot describe, but which when I see it gives me a very uncanny feeling."
The girl laughed. "You are a silly dear, mamma," she said.
"I suppose so, but I am sorry that we have not poor Mr. Caldwell for company instead."
"And I, too," replied her daughter.
Monsieur Thuran became a frequent visitor at the home of Hazel Strong's uncle in Cape Town. His attentions were very marked, but they were so punctiliously41 arranged to meet the girl's every wish that she came to depend upon him more and more. Did she or her mother or a cousin require an escort—was there a little friendly service to be rendered, the genial42 and ubiquitous Monsieur Thuran was always available. Her uncle and his family grew to like him for his unfailing courtesy and willingness to be of service. Monsieur Thuran was becoming indispensable. At length, feeling the moment propitious43, he proposed. Miss Strong was startled. She did not know what to say.
"I had never thought that you cared for me in any such way," she told him. "I have looked upon you always as a very dear friend. I shall not give you my answer now. Forget that you have asked me to be your wife. Let us go on as we have been—then I can consider you from an entirely different angle for a time. It may be that I shall discover that my feeling for you is more than friendship. I certainly have not thought for a moment that I loved you."
This arrangement was perfectly satisfactory to Monsieur Thuran. He deeply regretted that he had been hasty, but he had loved her for so long a time, and so devotedly44, that he thought that every one must know it.
"From the first time I saw you, Hazel," he said, "I have loved you. I am willing to wait, for I am certain that so great and pure a love as mine will be rewarded. All that I care to know is that you do not love another. Will you tell me?"
"I have never been in love in my life," she replied, and he was quite satisfied. On the way home that night he purchased a steam yacht, and built a million-dollar villa45 on the Black Sea.
The next day Hazel Strong enjoyed one of the happiest surprises of her life—she ran face to face upon Jane Porter as she was coming out of a jeweler's shop.
"Why, Jane Porter!" she exclaimed. "Where in the world did you drop from? Why, I can't believe my own eyes."
"Well, of all things!" cried the equally astonished Jane. "And here I have been wasting whole reams of perfectly good imagination picturing you in Baltimore—the very idea!" And she threw her arms about her friend once more, and kissed her a dozen times.
By the time mutual46 explanations had been made Hazel knew that Lord Tennington's yacht had put in at Cape Town for at least a week's stay, and at the end of that time was to continue on her voyage—this time up the West Coast—and so back to England. "Where," concluded Jane, "I am to be married."
"Then you are not married yet?" asked Hazel.
"Not yet," replied Jane, and then, quite irrelevantly47, "I wish England were a million miles from here."
Visits were exchanged between the yacht and Hazel's relatives. Dinners were arranged, and trips into the surrounding country to entertain the visitors. Monsieur Thuran was a welcome guest at every function. He gave a dinner himself to the men of the party, and managed to ingratiate himself in the good will of Lord Tennington by many little acts of hospitality.
Monsieur Thuran had heard dropped a hint of something which might result from this unexpected visit of Lord Tennington's yacht, and he wanted to be counted in on it. Once when he was alone with the Englishman he took occasion to make it quite plain that his engagement to Miss Strong was to be announced immediately upon their return to America. "But not a word of it, my dear Tennington—not a word of it."
"Certainly, I quite understand, my dear fellow," Tennington had replied. "But you are to be congratulated—ripping girl, don't you know—really."
The next day it came. Mrs. Strong, Hazel, and Monsieur Thuran were Lord Tennington's guests aboard his yacht. Mrs. Strong had been telling them how much she had enjoyed her visit at Cape Town, and that she regretted that a letter just received from her attorneys in Baltimore had necessitated48 her cutting her visit shorter than they had intended.
"When do you sail?" asked Tennington.
"The first of the week, I think," she replied. "Indeed?" exclaimed Monsieur Thuran. "I am very fortunate. I, too, have found that I must return at once, and now I shall have the honor of accompanying and serving you."
"That is nice of you, Monsieur Thuran," replied Mrs. Strong. "I am sure that we shall be glad to place ourselves under your protection." But in the bottom of her heart was the wish that they might escape him. Why, she could not have told.
"Yes, Tennington, of course," ventured Clayton; "it must be a bully idea if you had it, but what the deuce is it? Goin' to steam to China via the south pole?"
"Oh, I say now, Clayton," returned Tennington, "you needn't be so rough on a fellow just because you didn't happen to suggest this trip yourself—you've acted a regular bounder ever since we sailed.
"No, sir," he continued, "it's a bully idea, and you'll all say so. It's to take Mrs. Strong and Miss Strong, and Thuran, too, if he'll come, as far as England with us on the yacht. Now, isn't that a corker?"
"Forgive me, Tenny, old boy," cried Clayton. "It certainly IS a corking50 idea—I never should have suspected you of it. You're quite sure it's original, are you?"
"And we'll sail the first of the week, or any other time that suits your convenience, Mrs. Strong," concluded the big-hearted Englishman, as though the thing were all arranged except the sailing date.
"Mercy, Lord Tennington, you haven't even given us an opportunity to thank you, much less decide whether we shall be able to accept your generous invitation," said Mrs. Strong.
"Why, of course you'll come," responded Tennington. "We'll make as good time as any passenger boat, and you'll be fully51 as comfortable; and, anyway, we all want you, and won't take no for an answer."
And so it was settled that they should sail the following Monday.
Two days out the girls were sitting in Hazel's cabin, looking at some prints she had had finished in Cape Town. They represented all the pictures she had taken since she had left America, and the girls were both engrossed52 in them, Jane asking many questions, and Hazel keeping up a perfect torrent53 of comment and explanation of the various scenes and people.
"And here," she said suddenly, "here's a man you know. Poor fellow, I have so often intended asking you about him, but I never have been able to think of it when we were together." She was holding the little print so that Jane did not see the face of the man it portrayed54.
"His name was John Caldwell," continued Hazel. "Do you recall him? He said that he met you in America. He is an Englishman."
"I do not recollect55 the name," replied Jane. "Let me see the picture." "The poor fellow was lost overboard on our trip down the coast," she said, as she handed the print to Jane.
"Lost over—Why, Hazel, Hazel—don't tell me that he is dead—drowned at sea! Hazel! Why don't you say that you are joking!" And before the astonished Miss Strong could catch her Jane Porter had slipped to the floor in a swoon.
After Hazel had restored her chum to consciousness she sat looking at her for a long time before either spoke56.
"I did not know, Jane," said Hazel, in a constrained57 voice, "that you knew Mr. Caldwell so intimately that his death could prove such a shock to you."
"John Caldwell?" questioned Miss Porter. "You do not mean to tell me that you do not know who this man was, Hazel?"
"Why, yes, Jane; I know perfectly well who he was—his name was John Caldwell; he was from London."
"Oh, Hazel, I wish I could believe it," moaned the girl. "I wish I could believe it, but those features are burned so deep into my memory and my heart that I should recognize them anywhere in the world from among a thousand others, who might appear identical to any one but me."
"What do you mean, Jane?" cried Hazel, now thoroughly58 alarmed. "Who do you think it is?"
"I don't think, Hazel. I know that that is a picture of Tarzan of the Apes."
"Jane!"
"I cannot be mistaken. Oh, Hazel, are you sure that he is dead? Can there be no mistake?"
"I am afraid not, dear," answered Hazel sadly. "I wish I could think that you are mistaken, but now a hundred and one little pieces of corroborative59 evidence occur to me that meant nothing to me while I thought that he was John Caldwell, of London. He said that he had been born in Africa, and educated in France."
"Yes, that would be true," murmured Jane Porter dully.
"The first officer, who searched his luggage, found nothing to identify John Caldwell, of London. Practically all his belongings60 had been made, or purchased, in Paris. Everything that bore an initial was marked either with a 'T' alone, or with 'J. C. T.' We thought that he was traveling incognito61 under his first two names—the J. C. standing62 for John Caldwell."
"Tarzan of the Apes took the name Jean C. Tarzan," said Jane, in the same lifeless monotone. "And he is dead! Oh! Hazel, it is horrible! He died all alone in this terrible ocean! It is unbelievable that that brave heart should have ceased to beat—that those mighty63 muscles are quiet and cold forever! That he who was the personification of life and health and manly64 strength should be the prey65 of slimy, crawling things, that—" But she could go no further, and with a little moan she buried her head in her arms, and sank sobbing66 to the floor.
For days Miss Porter was ill, and would see no one except Hazel and the faithful Esmeralda. When at last she came on deck all were struck by the sad change that had taken place in her. She was no longer the alert, vivacious67 American beauty who had charmed and delighted all who came in contact with her. Instead she was a very quiet and sad little girl—with an expression of hopeless wistfulness that none but Hazel Strong could interpret.
The entire party strove their utmost to cheer and amuse her, but all to no avail. Occasionally the jolly Lord Tennington would wring68 a wan smile from her, but for the most part she sat with wide eyes looking out across the sea.
With Jane Porter's illness one misfortune after another seemed to attack the yacht. First an engine broke down, and they drifted for two days while temporary repairs were being made. Then a squall struck them unaware69, that carried overboard nearly everything above deck that was portable. Later two of the seamen70 fell to fighting in the forecastle, with the result that one of them was badly wounded with a knife, and the other had to be put in irons. Then, to cap the climax71, the mate fell overboard at night, and was drowned before help could reach him. The yacht cruised about the spot for ten hours, but no sign of the man was seen after he disappeared from the deck into the sea.
Every member of the crew and guests was gloomy and depressed72 after these series of misfortunes. All were apprehensive73 of worse to come, and this was especially true of the seamen who recalled all sorts of terrible omens74 and warnings that had occurred during the early part of the voyage, and which they could now clearly translate into the precursors75 of some grim and terrible tragedy to come.
Nor did the croakers have long to wait. The second night after the drowning of the mate the little yacht was suddenly wracked from stem to stern. About one o'clock in the morning there was a terrific impact that threw the slumbering76 guests and crew from berth and bunk77. A mighty shudder18 ran through the frail78 craft; she lay far over to starboard; the engines stopped. For a moment she hung there with her decks at an angle of forty-five degrees—then, with a sullen79, rending80 sound, she slipped back into the sea and righted.
Instantly the men rushed upon deck, followed closely by the women. Though the night was cloudy, there was little wind or sea, nor was it so dark but that just off the port bow a black mass could be discerned floating low in the water.
Presently the engineer hurried on deck in search of the captain.
"That patch we put on the cylinder82 head's blown out, sir," he reported, "and she's makin' water fast for'ard on the port bow."
"My Gawd!" he cried. "Her whole bleedin' bottom's ripped out. She can't float twenty minutes."
"Shut up!" roared Tennington. "Ladies, go below and get some of your things together. It may not be so bad as that, but we may have to take to the boats. It will be safer to be prepared. Go at once, please. And, Captain Jerrold, send some competent man below, please, to ascertain the exact extent of the damage. In the meantime I might suggest that you have the boats provisioned."
The calm, low voice of the owner did much to reassure84 the entire party, and a moment later all were occupied with the duties he had suggested. By the time the ladies had returned to the deck the rapid provisioning of the boats had been about completed, and a moment later the officer who had gone below had returned to report. But his opinion was scarcely needed to assure the huddled85 group of men and women that the end of the LADY ALICE was at hand.
"Well, sir?" said the captain, as his officer hesitated.
"I dislike to frighten the ladies, sir," he said, "but she can't float a dozen minutes, in my opinion. There's a hole in her you could drive a bally cow through, sir."
For five minutes the LADY ALICE had been settling rapidly by the bow. Already her stern loomed86 high in the air, and foothold on the deck was of the most precarious87 nature. She carried four boats, and these were all filled and lowered away in safety. As they pulled rapidly from the stricken little vessel88 Jane Porter turned to have one last look at her. Just then there came a loud crash and an ominous89 rumbling90 and pounding from the heart of the ship—her machinery91 had broken loose, and was dashing its way toward the bow, tearing out partitions and bulkheads as it went—the stern rose rapidly high above them; for a moment she seemed to pause there—a vertical92 shaft93 protruding94 from the bosom95 of the ocean, and then swiftly she dove headforemost beneath the waves.
In one of the boats the brave Lord Tennington wiped a tear from his eye—he had not seen a fortune in money go down forever into the sea, but a dear, beautiful friend whom he had loved.
At last the long night broke, and a tropical sun smote96 down upon the rolling water. Jane Porter had dropped into a fitful slumber—the fierce light of the sun upon her upturned face awoke her. She looked about her. In the boat with her were three sailors, Clayton, and Monsieur Thuran. Then she looked for the other boats, but as far as the eye could reach there was nothing to break the fearful monotony of that waste of waters—they were alone in a small boat upon the broad Atlantic.
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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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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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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broached
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| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
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solicitous
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| adj.热切的，挂念的 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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presentiments
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| n.（对不祥事物的）预感( presentiment的名词复数 ) | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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credible
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| adj.可信任的，可靠的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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prostrated
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| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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censure
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| v./n.责备；非难；责难 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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obtruded
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| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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squandered
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| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vocation
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| n.职业，行业 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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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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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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punctiliously
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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devotedly
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| 专心地； 恩爱地； 忠实地； 一心一意地 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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irrelevantly
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| adv.不恰当地，不合适地；不相关地 | |
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necessitated
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| 使…成为必要，需要( necessitate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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corking
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| adj.很好的adv.非常地v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的现在分词 ) | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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portrayed
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| v.画像( portray的过去式和过去分词 )；描述；描绘；描画 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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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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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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corroborative
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| adj.确证（性）的，确凿的 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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incognito
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| adv.匿名地；n.隐姓埋名；adj.化装的，用假名的，隐匿姓名身份的 | |
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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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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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omens
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| n.前兆，预兆( omen的名词复数 ) | |
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precursors
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| n.先驱( precursor的名词复数 )；先行者；先兆；初期形式 | |
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slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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rending
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| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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terse
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| adj.(说话，文笔)精炼的，简明的 | |
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cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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