Far away, above the black crest7 of the hills, a bright streak8 of sky announced the coming of the dawn. A church clock struck four. Here and there a bird awoke and began to sing. The air was soft and warm.
"Saint-Quentin! Saint-Quentin!"
A head was thrust out of the little window which looked out over the box under the projecting roof.
"A nice thing this! I thought as much! The rascal10 has decamped in the night. The little beast! Nice discipline this is!"
Other voices joined in the grumbling11. Two or three minutes passed, then the door in the back of the caravan opened and a shadowy figure descended12 the five steps of the ladder while two tousled heads appeared at the side window.
"Dorothy! Where are you going?"
"To look for Saint-Quentin!" replied the shadowy figure.
"But he came back with you from your walk last night; and I saw him settle down on the box."
"You can see that he isn't there any longer, Castor."
"Where is he?"
"Patience! I'm going to bring him back to you by the ears."
"No, no, mummy Dorothy! Don't you go away by yourself in the night-time. It's dangerous...."
"What are you making a fuss about, Pollux? Dangerous? It's no business of yours!"
She smacked14 them and kicked them gently, and brought them quickly back to the caravan into which they climbed. There, sitting on the stool, she took their two heads, pressed them against her face, and kissed them tenderly.
"No ill feeling, children. Danger? I'll find Saint-Quentin in half an hour from now."
"A nice business!... Saint-Quentin!... A beggar who isn't sixteen!"
"While Castor and Pollux are twenty—taken together!" retorted Dorothy.
"But what does he want to go traipsing about like this at night for? And it isn't the first time either.... Where is it he makes these expeditions to?"
"To snare15 rabbits," she said. "There's nothing wrong in it, you see. But come, there's been talk enough about it. Go to by-by again, boys. And above all, Castor and Pollux, don't fight. D'you hear? And no noise. The Captain's asleep; and he doesn't like to be disturbed, the Captain doesn't."
She took herself off, jumped over the ditch, crossed a meadow, in which her feet splashed up the water in the puddles16, and gained a path which wound through a copse of young trees which only reached her shoulders. Twice already, the evening before, strolling with her comrade Saint-Quentin, she had followed this half-formed path, so that she went briskly forward without hesitating. She crossed two roads, came to a stream, the white pebbly18 bottom of which gleamed under the quiet water, stepped into it, and walked up it against the current, as if she wished to hide her tracks, and when the first light of day began to invest objects with clear shapes, darted19 forth20 afresh through the woods, light, graceful21, not very tall, her legs bare below a very short skirt from which streamed behind her a flutter of many-colored ribbons.
She ran, with effortless ease, surefooted, with never a chance of spraining22 an ankle, over the dead leaves, among the flowers of early spring, lilies of the valley, violet anemones23, or white narcissi.
Her black hair, not very long, was divided into two heavy masses which flapped like two wings. Her smiling face, parted lips, dilated24 nostrils25, her half-closed eyes proclaimed all her delight in her swift course through the fresh air of the morning. Her neck, long and flexible, rose from a blouse of gray linen26, closed by a kerchief of orange silk. She looked to be fifteen or sixteen years old.
The wood came to an end. A valley lay before her, sunk between two walls of rock and turning off abruptly. Dorothy stopped short. She had reached her goal.
Facing her, on a pedestal of granite27, cleanly cut down, and not more than a hundred feet in diameter, rose the main building of a château, which though it lacked grandeur28 of style itself, yet drew from its position and the impressive nature of its construction an air of being a seigniorial residence. To the right and left the valley, narrowed to two ravines, appeared to envelop29 it like an old-time moat. But in front of Dorothy the full breadth of the valley formed a slightly undulating glacis, strewn with boulders30 and traversed by hedges of briar, which ended at the foot of the almost vertical31 cliff of the granite pedestal.
"A quarter to five striking," murmured the young girl. "Saint-Quentin won't be long."
She crouched32 down behind the enormous trunk of an uprooted33 tree and watched with unwinking eyes the line of demarcation between the château itself and its rocky base.
A narrow shelf of rock lengthened34 this line, running below the windows of the ground floor; and there was a spot in this exiguous35 cornice at which there came to an end a slanting36 fissure37 in the face of the cliff, very narrow, something of the nature of a crevice38 in the face of a wall.
The evening before, during their walk, Saint-Quentin had said, his finger pointing at the fissure:
"Those people believe themselves to be perfectly39 secure; and yet nothing could be easier than to haul one's self up along that crack to one of the windows. ... Look; there's one which is actually half-open ... the window of some pantry."
Dorothy had no doubt whatever that the idea of climbing the granite pedestal had gripped Saint-Quentin and that that very night he had stolen away to attempt it. What had become of him after the attempt? Had there not been some one in the room he had entered? Knowing nothing of the place he was exploring nor of the dwellers40 in it, had he not let himself be taken? Or was he merely waiting for the break of day?
She was greatly troubled. For all that she could see no sign of a path along the ravine, some countryman might come along at the very moment at which Saint-Quentin took the risk of making his descent, a far more difficult business than climbing up.
Of a sudden she quivered. One might have said that in thinking of this mischance she had brought it on them. She heard the sound of heavy footfalls coming along the ravine and making for its main entrance. She buried herself among the roots of the tree and they hid her. A man came in sight. He was wearing a long blouse; his face was encircled and hidden by a gray muffler; old, furred gloves covered his hands; he carried a gun on his arm, a mattock over his shoulder.
She thought that he must be a sportsman, or rather a poacher, for he walked with an uneasy air, looking carefully about him, like one who feared to be seen, and who was carefully changing his usual bearing. But he came to a standstill near the wall fifty or sixty yards from the spot at which Saint-Quentin had made the ascent41, and studied the ground, turning over some flat stones and bending down over them.
At last he made up his mind and seizing one of these slabs43 by its narrower end, he raised it and set it up on end in such a manner that it was balanced after the fashion of a cromlech. So doing he uncovered a hole which had been hollowed out in the center of the deep imprint44 left by the slab42. Then he took his mattock and set about enlarging it, removing the earth very quietly, evidently taking great care to make no noise.
A few minutes more slipped away. Then the inevitable45 event which Dorothy had at once desired and feared took place. The window of the château, through which Saint-Quentin had climbed the night before, opened; and there appeared a long body clad in a long black coat, its head covered with a high hat, which, even at that distance, were plainly shiny, dirty, and patched.
Squeezed flat against the wall, Saint-Quentin lowered himself from the window and succeeded in setting his two feet on the rocky shelf. On the instant Dorothy, who was at the back of the man in the blouse, was on the point of rising and making a warning signal to her comrade. The movement was useless. The man had perceived what looked to be a black devil clinging to the face of the cliff, and dropping his mattock, he slipped into the hole.
For his part, Saint-Quentin, absorbed in his job of getting down, was paying no attention to what was going on below him, and could only have seen it by turning round, which was practically impossible. Uncoiling a rope, which he had, without doubt, picked up in the mansion46, he ran it round a pillar of the balcony of the window in such a fashion that the two ends hung down the face of the cliff an equal distance. With the help of this double rope the descent presented no difficulty.
Without losing a second, Dorothy, uneasy at being no longer able to see the man in a blouse, sprang from her hiding-place and raced to the hole. As she got a view of it, she smothered47 a cry. At the bottom of the hole, as at the bottom of a trench48, the man, resting the barrel of his gun on the rampart of earth he had thrown up, was about to take deliberate aim at the unconscious climber.
Call out? Warn Saint-Quentin? That was to precipitate49 the event, to make her presence known and find herself engaged in an unequal struggle with an armed adversary50. But do something she must. Up there Saint-Quentin was availing himself of the fissure in the face of the cliff, for all the world as if he were descending51 the shaft4 of a chimney. The whole of him stuck out, a black and lean silhouette52. His high hat had been crushed down, concertina fashion, right on to his ears.
The man set the butt53 of his gun against his shoulder and took aim. Dorothy leapt forward and flung herself at the stone which stood up behind him and with the impetus54 of her spring and all her weight behind her outstretched hands, shoved it. It was badly balanced, gave at the shock, and toppled over, closing the excavation55 like a trap-door of stone, crushing the gun, and imprisoning56 the man in the blouse. The young girl got just a glimpse of his head as it bent57 and his shoulders as they were thrust down into the hole.
She thought that the attack was only postponed58, that the enemy would lose no time in getting out of his grave, and dashed at full speed to the bottom of the fissure at which she arrived at the same time as Saint-Quentin.
"Quick ... quick!" she cried. "We must bolt!"
"What's up? What d'you want? How did you know I was here?"
"Bolt, idiot!... They've seen you!... They were going to take a shot at you!... Quick! They'll be after us!"
"What's that? Be after us? Who?"
"A queer-looking beggar disguised as a peasant. He's in a hole over yonder. He was going to shoot you like a partridge when I tumbled the slab on to the top of him."
"But——"
"Do as I tell you, idiot! And bring the rope with you. You mustn't leave any traces!"
She turned and bolted; he followed her. They reached the end of the valley before the slab was raised, and without exchanging a word took cover in the wood.
Twenty minutes later they entered the stream and did not leave it till they could emerge on to a bank of pebbles61 on which their feet could leave no print.
Saint-Quentin was off again like an arrow; but Dorothy stopped short, suddenly shaken by a spasm62 of laughter which bent her double.
"What is it?" he said. "What's the matter with you?"
She could not answer. She was convulsed, her hands pressed against her ribs63, her face scarlet64, her teeth, small, regular, whitely-gleaming teeth, bared. At last she managed to stutter:
"You—you—your high—high hat!... That b-b-black coat!... Your b-b-bare feet!... It's t-t-too funny!... Where did you sneak65 that disguise from?... Goodness! What a sight you are!"
Her laughter rang out, young and fresh, on the silence in which the leaves were fluttering. Facing her, Saint-Quentin, an awkward stripling who had outgrown66 his strength, with his face too pale, his hair too fair, his ears sticking out, but with admirable, very kindly67 black eyes, gazed, smiling, at the young girl, delighted by this diversion which seemed to be turning aside from him the outburst of wrath68 he was expecting.
Of a sudden, indeed, she fell upon him, attacking him with thumps69 and reproaches, but in a half-hearted fashion, with little bursts of laughter, which robbed the chastisement70 of its sting.
"Wretch71 and rogue72! You've been stealing again, have you? You're no longer satisfied with your salary as acrobat73, aren't you, my fine fellow? You must still prig money or jewels to keep yourself in high hats, must you? What have you got, looter? Eh? Tell me!"
By dint74 of striking and laughing she had soothed75 her righteous indignation. She set out again and Saint-Quentin, thoroughly76 abashed77, stammered78:
"Tell you? What's the good of telling you? You've guessed everything, as usual.... As a matter of fact I did get in through that window, last evening.... It was a pantry at the end of a corridor which led to the ground-floor rooms.... Not a soul about.... The family was at dinner.... A servant's staircase led me up into another passage, which ran round the house, with the doors of all the rooms opening into it. I went through them all. Nothing—that is to say, pictures and other things too big to carry away. Then I hid myself in a closet, from which I could see into a little sitting-room79 next to the prettiest bedroom. They danced till late; then came upstairs ... fashionable people.... I saw them through a peep-hole in the door ... the ladies décolletées, the gentlemen in evening dress.... At last one of the ladies went into the boudoir. She put her jewels into a jewel-box and the jewel-box into a small safe, saying out loud as she opened it the three letters of the combination of the lock, R.O.B.... So that, when she went to bed, all I had to do was to make use of them.... After that.... I waited for daylight.... I wasn't going to chance stumbling about in the dark."
"Let's see what you've got," she commanded.
He opened his hand and disclosed on the palm of it two earrings80, set with sapphires81. She took them and looked at them. Her face changed; her eyes sparkled; she murmured in quite a different voice:
"How lovely they are, sapphires!... The sky is sometimes like that—at night ... that dark blue, full of light...."
At the moment they were crossing a piece of land on which stood a large scarecrow, simply clad in a pair of trousers. On one of the cross-sticks which served it for arms hung a jacket. It was the jacket of Saint-Quentin. He had hung it there the evening before, and in order to render himself unrecognizable, had borrowed the scarecrow's long coat and high hat. He took off that long coat, buttoned it over the plaster bosom82 of the scarecrow, and replaced the hat. Then he slipped on his jacket and rejoined Dorothy.
She was still looking at the sapphires with an air of admiration83.
He bent over them and said: "Keep them, Dorothy. You know quite well that I'm not really a thief and that I only got them for you ... that you might have the pleasure of looking at them and touching84 them.... It often goes to my heart to see you running about in that beggarly get-up!... To think of you dancing on the tight-rope! You who ought to live in luxury!... Ah, to think of all I'd do for you, if you'd let me!"
She raised her head, looked into his eyes, and said: "Would you really do anything for me?"
"Anything, Dorothy."
"Well, then, be honest, Saint-Quentin."
They set out again; and the young girl continued:
"Be honest, Saint-Quentin. That's all I ask of you. You and the other boys of the caravan, I've adopted you because, like me, you're war-orphans, and for the last two years we have wandered together along the high roads, happy rather than miserable85, getting our fun, and on the whole, eating when we're hungry. But we must come to an understanding. I only like what is clean and straight and as clear as a ray of sunlight. Are you like me? This is the third time you've stolen to give me pleasure. Is this the last time? If it is, I pardon it. If it isn't, it's 'good-bye.'"
She spoke86 very seriously, emphasizing each phrase by a toss of the head which made the two wings of her hair flap.
Overwhelmed, Saint-Quentin said imploringly87:
"Don't you want to have anything more to do with me?"
"Yes. But swear you won't do it again."
"I swear I won't."
"Then we won't say anything more about it. I feel that you mean what you say. Take back these jewels. You can hide them in the big basket under the caravan. Next week you will send them back by post. It's the Château de Chagny, isn't it?"
"Yes, and I saw the lady's name on one of her band-boxes. She's the Comtesse de Chagny."
They went on hand in hand. Twice they hid themselves to avoid meeting peasants, and at last, after several detours88, they reached the neighborhood of the caravan.
"Listen," said Saint-Quentin, pausing to listen himself. "Yes. That's what it is—Castor and Pollux fighting as usual, the rascals89!"
He dashed towards the sound.
"Saint-Quentin!" cried the young girl. "I forbid you to hit them!"
"You hit them often enough!"
"Yes. But they like me to hit them."
At the approach of Saint-Quentin, the two boys, who were fighting a duel90 with wooden swords, turned from one another to face the common enemy, howling:
"Dorothy! Mummy Dorothy! Stop Saint-Quentin! He's a beast! Help!"
"Dorothy, it's my turn to be hugged!"
"Dorothy, it's my turn to be smacked!"
But the young girl said in a scolding voice:
"And the Captain? I'm sure you've gone and woke him up!"
"The Captain? He's sleeping like a sapper," declared Pollux. "Just listen to his snoring!"
By the side of the road the two urchins92 had lit a fire of wood. The pot, suspended from an iron tripod, was boiling. The four of them ate a steaming thick soup, bread and cheese, and drank a cup of coffee.
Dorothy did not budge93 from her stool. Her three companions would not have permitted it. It was rather which of the three should rise to serve her, all of them attentive94 to her wants, eager, jealous of one another, even aggressive towards one another. The battles of Castor and Pollux were always started by the fact that she had shown favor to one or the other. The two urchins, stout95 and chubby96, dressed alike in pants, a shirt, and jacket, when one least expected it and for all that they were as fond of one another as brothers, fell upon one another with ferocious97 violence, because the young girl had spoken too kindly to one, or delighted the other with a too affectionate look.
As for Saint-Quentin, he cordially detested98 them. When Dorothy fondled them, he could have cheerfully wrung99 their necks. Never would she hug him. He had to content himself with good comradeship, trusting and affectionate, which only showed itself in a friendly hand-shake or a pleasant smile. The stripling delighted in them as the only reward which a poor devil like him could possibly deserve. Saint-Quentin was one of those who love with selfless devotion.
"The arithmetic lesson now," was Dorothy's order. "And you, Saint-Quentin, go to sleep for an hour on the box."
Castor brought his arithmetic. Pollux displayed his copy-book. The arithmetic lesson was followed by a lecture delivered by Dorothy on the Merovingian kings, then by a lecture on astronomy.
The two children listened with almost impassioned attention; and Saint-Quentin on the box took good care not to go to sleep. In teaching, Dorothy gave full play to her lively fancy in a fashion which diverted her pupils and never allowed them to grow weary. She had an air of learning herself whatever she chanced to be teaching. And her discourse100, delivered in a very gentle voice, revealed a considerable knowledge and understanding and the suppleness101 of a practical intelligence.
At ten o'clock the young girl gave the order to harness the horse. The journey to the next town was a long one; and they had to arrive in time to secure the best place in front of the town-hall.
"And the Captain? He hasn't had breakfast!" cried Castor.
"All the better," said she. "The Captain always eats too much. It will give his stomach a rest. Besides if any one wakes him he's always in a frightful102 temper. Let him sleep on."
They set out. The caravan moved along at the gentle pace of One-eyed Magpie103, a lean old mare104, but still strong and willing. They called her "One-eyed Magpie" because she had a piebald coat and had lost an eye. Heavy, perched on two high wheels, rocking, jingling105 like old iron, loaded with boxes, pots and pans, steps, barrels, and ropes, the caravan had recently been repainted. On both sides it bore the pompous106 inscription107, "Dorothy's Circus, Manager's Carriage," which led one to believe that a file of wagons108 and vehicles was following at some distance with the staff, the properties, the baggage, and the wild beasts.
Saint-Quentin, whip in hand, walked at the head of the caravan. Dorothy, with the two small boys at her side, gathered flowers from the banks, sang choruses of marching songs with them, or told them stories. But at the end of half an hour, in the middle of some cross-roads, she gave the order: "Halt!"
"What is it?" asked Saint-Quentin, seeing that she was reading the directions on a sign-post.
"Look," she said.
"There's no need to look. It's straight on. I looked it up on our map."
"Look," she repeated. "Chagny. A mile and a half."
"Quite so. It's the village of our château of yesterday. Only to get to it we made a short cut through the woods."
"Chagny. A mile and a half. Château de Roborey."
She appeared to be troubled and in a low voice she murmured again:
"Roborey—Roborey."
"Doubtless that's the proper name of the château," hazarded Saint-Quentin. "What difference can it make to you?"
"None—none."
"But you look as if it made no end of a difference."
"No. It's just a coincidence."
"In what way?"
"With regard to the name of Roborey——"
"Well?"
"Well, it's a word which was impressed on my memory ... a word which was uttered in circumstances——"
"What circumstances, Dorothy?"
She explained slowly with a thoughtful air:
"Think a minute, Saint-Quentin. I told you that my father died of his wounds, at the beginning of the war, in a hospital near Chartres. I had been summoned; but I did not arrive in time.... But two wounded men, who occupied the beds next to his in the ward17, told me that during his last hours he never stopped repeating the same word again and again: 'Roborey ... Roborey.' It came like a litany, unceasingly, and as if it weighed on his mind. Even when he was dying he still uttered the word: 'Roborey ... Roborey.'"
"Yes," said Saint-Quentin. "I remember.... You did tell me about it."
"Ever since then I have been asking myself what it meant and by what memory my poor father was obsessed109 at the time of his death. It was, apparently110, more than an obsession111 ... it was a terror ... a dread112. Why? I have never been able to find the explanation of it. So now you understand, Saint-Quentin, on seeing this name ... written there, staring me in the face ... on learning that there was a château of that name...."
Saint-Quentin was frightened:
"You never mean to go there, do you?"
"Why not?"
"It's madness, Dorothy!"
The young girl was silent, considering. But Saint-Quentin felt sure that she had not abandoned this unprecedented113 design. He was seeking for arguments to dissuade114 her when Castor and Pollux came running up:
They issued on the instant, one after the other in single file, from a sunken lane, which opened on to the cross-roads, and took the road to Roborey. They were an Aunt Sally, a Rifle-Range, and a Tortoise Merry-go-round. As he passed in front of Dorothy and Saint-Quentin, one of the men of the Rifle-Range called to them:
"Are you coming along too?"
"Where to?" said Dorothy.
"To the château. There's a village fête in the grounds. Shall I keep a pitch for you?"
"Right. And thanks very much," replied the young girl.
The caravans went on their way.
"What's the matter, Saint-Quentin?" said Dorothy.
He was looking paler than usual.
He stammered:
"The p-p-police!"
From the same sunken lane two horsemen came into the cross-roads, they rode on in front of the little party.
"You see," said Dorothy, smiling, "they're not taking any notice of us."
"No; but they're going to the château."
"Of course they are. There's a fête there; and two policemen have to be present."
"Always supposing that they haven't discovered the disappearance117 of the earrings and telephoned to the nearest police-station," he groaned118.
"It isn't likely. The lady will only discover it to-night, when she dresses for dinner."
"All the same, don't let's go there," implored the unhappy stripling. "It's simply walking into the trap.... Besides, there's that man ... the man in the hole."
"Oh, he dug his own grave," she said and laughed.
"Suppose he's there.... Suppose he recognizes me?"
"You were disguised. All they could do would be to arrest the scarecrow in the tall hat!"
"And suppose they've already laid an information against me? If they searched us they'd find the earrings."
"drop them in some bushes in the park when we get there. I'll tell the people of the château their fortunes; and thanks to me, the lady will recover her earrings. Our fortunes are made."
"But if by any chance——"
"Rubbish! It would amuse me to go and see what is going on at the château which is named Roborey. So I'm going."
"Yes; but I'm afraid ... afraid for you as well."
"Then stay away."
"We'll chance it!" he said, and cracked his whip.
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1
sickle
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| n.镰刀 | |
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caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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stertorous
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| adj.打鼾的 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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puddles
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| n.水坑， （尤指道路上的）雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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pebbly
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| 多卵石的，有卵石花纹的 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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spraining
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| 扭伤（关节）( sprain的现在分词 ) | |
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anemones
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| n.银莲花( anemone的名词复数 )；海葵 | |
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dilated
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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26
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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29
envelop
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| vt.包，封，遮盖；包围 | |
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30
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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31
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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32
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
uprooted
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| v.把（某物）连根拔起( uproot的过去式和过去分词 )；根除；赶走；把…赶出家园 | |
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34
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
exiguous
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| adj.不足的，太少的 | |
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36
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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37
fissure
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| n.裂缝；裂伤 | |
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38
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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39
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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40
dwellers
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| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
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41
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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42
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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43
slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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44
imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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45
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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46
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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47
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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48
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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49
precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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50
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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51
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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52
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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53
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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54
impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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55
excavation
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| n.挖掘，发掘；被挖掘之地 | |
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56
imprisoning
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| v.下狱，监禁( imprison的现在分词 ) | |
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57
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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58
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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59
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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60
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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62
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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63
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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64
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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65
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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66
outgrown
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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67
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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68
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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69
thumps
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| n.猪肺病；砰的重击声( thump的名词复数 )v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的第三人称单数 ) | |
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70
chastisement
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| n.惩罚 | |
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71
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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72
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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73
acrobat
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| n.特技演员，杂技演员 | |
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74
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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75
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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76
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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77
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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80
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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81
sapphires
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| n.蓝宝石，钢玉宝石( sapphire的名词复数 )；蔚蓝色 | |
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82
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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83
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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84
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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85
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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86
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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87
imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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88
detours
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| 绕行的路( detour的名词复数 )； 绕道，兜圈子 | |
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89
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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90
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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91
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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92
urchins
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| n.顽童( urchin的名词复数 )；淘气鬼；猬；海胆 | |
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93
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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94
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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96
chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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97
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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98
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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100
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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101
suppleness
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| 柔软； 灵活； 易弯曲； 顺从 | |
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102
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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103
magpie
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| n.喜欢收藏物品的人，喜鹊，饶舌者 | |
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104
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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105
jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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106
pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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107
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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108
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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109
obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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110
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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111
obsession
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| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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112
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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113
unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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114
dissuade
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| v.劝阻，阻止 | |
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115
caravans
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| （可供居住的）拖车（通常由机动车拖行）( caravan的名词复数 )； 篷车； （穿过沙漠地带的）旅行队（如商队） | |
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116
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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117
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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118
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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119
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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