As of old the victims of the Inquisition, waking or dreaming, beheld3 ever before them the instrument of their torture, so before this woman's racked and half-numbed mind panoramically4 passed, an endless pageant5, the incidents of the night which had cut her off from living men and women. She tottered6 on the border-line which divides sanity7 from madness. She was learning what Sir Lucien had meant when, once, long long ago, in some remote time when she was young and happy and had belonged to a living world, he had said “a day is sure to come.” It had come, that “day.” It had dawned when she had torn the veil before Kazmah—and that veil had enveloped8 her ever since. All that had preceded the fatal act was blotted9 out, blurred10 and indistinct; all that had succeeded it lived eternally, passing, an endless pageant, before her tortured mind.
The horror of the moment when she had touched the hands of the man seated in the big ebony chair was of such kind that no subsequent terrors had supplanted11 it. For those long, slim hands of the color of old ivory were cold, rigid12, lifeless—the hands of a corpse13! Thus the pageant began, and it continued as hereafter, memory and delusion14 taking the stage in turn.
Complete darkness came.
Rita uttered a wild cry of horror and loathing15, shrinking back from the thing which sat in the ebony chair. She felt that consciousness was slipping from her; felt herself falling, and shrieked16 to know herself helpless and alone with Kazmah. She groped for support, but found none; and, moaning, she sank down, and was unconscious of her fall.
A voice awakened18 her. Someone knelt beside her in the darkness, supporting her; someone who spoke19 wildly, despairingly, but with a strange, emotional reverence20 curbing21 the passion in his voice.
“Rita—my Rita! What have they done to you? Speak to me.... Oh God! Spare her to me.... Let her hate me for ever, but spare her—spare her. Rita, speak to me! I tried, heaven hear me, to save you little girl. I only want you to be happy!”
She felt herself being lifted gently, tenderly. And as though the man's passionate22 entreaty23 had called her back from the dead, she reentered into life and strove to realize what had happened.
Sir Lucien was supporting her, and she found it hard to credit the fact that it was he, the hard, nonchalant man of the world she knew, who had spoken. She clutched his arm with both hands.
“Oh, Lucy!” she whispered. “I am so frightened—and so ill.”
“Thank God,” he said huskily, “she is alive. Lean against me and try to stand up. We must get away from here.”
Rita managed to stand upright, clinging wildly to Sir Lucien. A square, vaguely24 luminous25 opening became visible to her. Against it, silhouetted26, she could discern part of the outline of Kazmah's chair. She drew back, uttering a low, sobbing27 cry. Sir Lucien supported her, and:
“Don't be afraid, dear,” he said reassuringly28. “Nothing shall hurt you.”
He pushed open a door, and through it shone the same vague light which she had seen in the opening behind the chair. Sir Lucien spoke rapidly in a language which sounded like Spanish. He was answered by a perfect torrent29 of words in the same tongue.
Fiercely he cried something back at the hidden speaker.
A shriek17 of rage, of frenzy30, came out of the darkness. Rita felt that consciousness was about to leave her again. She swayed forward dizzily, and a figure which seemed to belong to delirium—a lithe31 shadow out of which gleamed a pair of wild eyes—leapt upon her. A knife glittered....
In order to have repelled32 the attack, Sir Lucien would have had to release Rita, who was clinging to him, weak and terror-stricken. Instead he threw himself before her.... She saw the knife enter his shoulder....
Through absolute darkness she sank down into a land of chaotic33 nightmare horrors. Great bells clanged maddeningly. Impish hands plucked at her garments, dragged her hair. She was hurried this way and that, bruised34, torn, and tossed helpless upon a sea of liquid brass35. Through vast avenues lined with yellow, immobile Chinese faces she was borne upon a bier. Oblique36 eyes looked into hers. Knives which glittered greenly in the light of lamps globular and suspended in immeasurable space, were hurled37 at her in showers....
Sir Lucien stood before her, supporting her; and all the knives buried themselves in his body. She tried to cry out, but no sound could she utter. Darkness fell again....
A Chinaman was bending over her. His hands were tucked in his loose sleeves. He smiled, and his smile was hideous38 but friendly. He was strangely like Sin Sin Wa, save that he did not lack an eye.
Rita found herself lying in an untidy bed in a room laden39 with opium40 fumes41 and dimly lighted. On a table beside her were the remains42 of a meal. She strove to recall having partaken of food, but was unsuccessful....
There came a blank—then a sharp, stabbing pain in her right arm. She thought it was the knife, and shrieked wildly again and again....
Years seemingly elapsed, years of agony spent amid oblique eyes which floated in space unattached to any visible body, amid reeking43 fumes and sounds of ceaseless conflict. Once she heard the cry of some bird, and thought it must be the parakeet which eternally sat on a branch of a lonely palm in the heart of the Great Sahara.... Then, one night, when she lay shrinking from the plucking yellow hands which reached out of the darkness:
She opened her eyes. She lay in the untidy bed in the room which was laden with the fumes of opium. She stared upward at the low, dirty ceiling.
“Why do you come to me with your stories of desperation?” continued the mocking voice. “You have insisted upon seeing me. I am here.”
Rita managed to move her head so that she could see more of the room.
On a divan45 at the other end of the place, propped46 up by a number of garish47 cushions, Rita beheld Mrs. Sin. The long bamboo pipe had fallen from her listless fingers. Her face wore an expression of mystic rapture48, like that characterizing the features of some Chinese Buddhas49....
In the other corner of the divan, contemplating50 her from under heavy brows, sat Kazmah....
点击收听单词发音
1 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
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2 momentary | |
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的 | |
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3 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
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4 panoramically | |
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5 pageant | |
n.壮观的游行;露天历史剧 | |
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6 tottered | |
v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 );踉跄;蹒跚;摇摇欲坠 | |
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7 sanity | |
n.心智健全,神智正常,判断正确 | |
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8 enveloped | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9 blotted | |
涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 ); (用吸墨纸)吸干 | |
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10 blurred | |
v.(使)变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 );(使)难以区分;模模糊糊;迷离 | |
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11 supplanted | |
把…排挤掉,取代( supplant的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12 rigid | |
adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的 | |
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13 corpse | |
n.尸体,死尸 | |
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14 delusion | |
n.谬见,欺骗,幻觉,迷惑 | |
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15 loathing | |
n.厌恶,憎恨v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的现在分词);极不喜欢 | |
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16 shrieked | |
v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17 shriek | |
v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
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18 awakened | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
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19 spoke | |
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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20 reverence | |
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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21 curbing | |
n.边石,边石的材料v.限制,克制,抑制( curb的现在分词 ) | |
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22 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
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23 entreaty | |
n.恳求,哀求 | |
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24 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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25 luminous | |
adj.发光的,发亮的;光明的;明白易懂的;有启发的 | |
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26 silhouetted | |
显出轮廓的,显示影像的 | |
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27 sobbing | |
<主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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28 reassuringly | |
ad.安心,可靠 | |
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29 torrent | |
n.激流,洪流;爆发,(话语等的)连发 | |
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30 frenzy | |
n.疯狂,狂热,极度的激动 | |
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31 lithe | |
adj.(指人、身体)柔软的,易弯的 | |
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32 repelled | |
v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 );使厌恶;排斥;推开 | |
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33 chaotic | |
adj.混沌的,一片混乱的,一团糟的 | |
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34 bruised | |
[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
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35 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
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36 oblique | |
adj.斜的,倾斜的,无诚意的,不坦率的 | |
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37 hurled | |
v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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38 hideous | |
adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
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39 laden | |
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的 | |
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40 opium | |
n.鸦片;adj.鸦片的 | |
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41 fumes | |
n.(强烈而刺激的)气味,气体 | |
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42 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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43 reeking | |
v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 );散发臭气;发出难闻的气味 (of sth);明显带有(令人不快或生疑的跡象) | |
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44 portent | |
n.预兆;恶兆;怪事 | |
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45 divan | |
n.长沙发;(波斯或其他东方诗人的)诗集 | |
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46 propped | |
支撑,支持,维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47 garish | |
adj.华丽而俗气的,华而不实的 | |
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48 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
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49 Buddhas | |
n.佛,佛陀,佛像( Buddha的名词复数 ) | |
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50 contemplating | |
深思,细想,仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 ); 注视,凝视; 考虑接受(发生某事的可能性); 深思熟虑,沉思,苦思冥想 | |
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