THE IDOL1 HOUSE OF ASTARTE
“ A nd now, Dr. Pender, what are you going to tell us?”
The old clergyman smiled gently.
“My life has been passed in quiet places,” he said. “Very few eventful happenings have come my way. Yet once,when I was a young man, I had one very strange and tragic2 experience.”
“Ah!” said Joyce Lemprière encouragingly.
“I have never forgotten it,” continued the clergyman. “It made a profound impression on me at the time, and to thisday by a slight effort of memory I can feel again the awe3 and horror of that terrible moment when I saw a man strickento death by apparently4 no mortal agency.”
“You make me feel quite creepy, Pender,” complained Sir Henry.
“It made me feel creepy, as you call it,” replied the other. “Since then I have never laughed at the people who usethe word atmosphere. There is such a thing. There are certain places imbued5 and saturated6 with good or evil influenceswhich can make their power felt.”
“That house, The Larches7, is a very unhappy one,” remarked Miss Marple. “Old Mr. Smithers lost all his moneyand had to leave it, then the Carslakes took it and Johnny Carslake fell downstairs and broke his leg and Mrs. Carslakehad to go away to the south of France for her health, and now the Burdens have got it and I hear that poor Mr. Burdenhas got to have an operation almost immediately.”
“There is, I think, rather too much superstition8 about such matters,” said Mr. Petherick. “A lot of damage is doneto property by foolish reports heedlessly circulated.”
“I have known one or two ‘ghosts’ that have had a very robust9 personality,” remarked Sir Henry with a chuckle10.
“I think,” said Raymond, “we should allow Dr. Pender to go on with his story.”
Joyce got up and switched off the two lamps, leaving the room lit only by the flickering11 firelight.
“Atmosphere,” she said. “Now we can get along.”
Dr. Pender smiled at her, and leaning back in his chair and taking off his pince-nez, he began his story in a gentlereminiscent voice.
“I don’t know whether any of you know Dartmoor at all. The place I am telling you about is situated13 on theborders of Dartmoor. It was a very charming property, though it had been on the market without finding a purchaserfor several years. The situation was perhaps a little bleak14 in winter, but the views were magnificent and there werecertain curious and original features about the property itself. It was bought by a man called Haydon—Sir RichardHaydon. I had known him in his college days, and though I had lost sight of him for some years, the old ties offriendship still held, and I accepted with pleasure his invitation to go down to Silent Grove15, as his new purchase wascalled.
“The house party was not a very large one. There was Richard Haydon himself, and his cousin, Elliot Haydon.
There was a Lady Mannering with a pale, rather inconspicuous daughter called Violet. There was a Captain Rogersand his wife, hard riding, weatherbeaten people, who lived only for horses and hunting. There was also a young Dr.
Symonds and there was Miss Diana Ashley. I knew something about the last named. Her picture was very often in theSociety papers and she was one of the notorious beauties of the Season. Her appearance was indeed very striking. Shewas dark and tall, with a beautiful skin of an even tint16 of pale cream, and her half closed dark eyes set slantways in herhead gave her a curiously17 piquant18 oriental appearance. She had, too, a wonderful speaking voice, deep-toned and bell-like.
“I saw at once that my friend Richard Haydon was very much attracted by her, and I guessed that the whole partywas merely arranged as a setting for her. Of her own feelings I was not so sure. She was capricious in her favours. Oneday talking to Richard and excluding everyone else from her notice, and another day she would favour his cousin,Elliot, and appear hardly to notice that such a person as Richard existed, and then again she would bestow20 the mostbewitching smiles upon the quiet and retiring Dr. Symonds.
“On the morning after my arrival our host showed us all over the place. The house itself was unremarkable, a goodsolid house built of Devonshire granite21. Built to withstand time and exposure. It was unromantic but very comfortable.
From the windows of it one looked out over the panorama22 of the Moor12, vast rolling hills crowned with weather-beatenTors.
“On the slopes of the Tor nearest to us were various hut circles, relics24 of the bygone days of the late Stone Age. Onanother hill was a barrow which had recently been excavated25, and in which certain bronze implements26 had been found.
Haydon was by way of being interested in antiquarian matters and he talked to us with a great deal of energy andenthusiasm. This particular spot, he explained, was particularly rich in relics of the past.
“Neolithic hut dwellers27, Druids, Romans, and even traces of the early Phoenicians were to be found.
“‘But this place is the most interesting of all,’ he said ‘You know its name—Silent Grove. Well, it is easy enoughto see what it takes its name from.’
“He pointed28 with his hand. That particular part of the country was bare enough—rocks, heather and bracken, butabout a hundred yards from the house there was a densely29 planted grove of trees.
“‘That is a relic23 of very early days,’ said Haydon, ‘The trees have died and been replanted, but on the whole it hasbeen kept very much as it used to be—perhaps in the time of the Phoenician settlers. Come and look at it.’
“We all followed him. As we entered the grove of trees a curious oppression came over me. I think it was thesilence. No birds seemed to nest in these trees. There was a feeling about it of desolation and horror. I saw Haydonlooking at me with a curious smile.
“‘Any feeling about this place, Pender?’ he asked me. ‘Antagonism now? Or uneasiness?’
“‘I don’t like it,’ I said quietly.
“‘You are within your rights. This was a stronghold of one of the ancient enemies of your faith. This is the Groveof Astarte.’
“‘Astarte?’
“‘Astarte, or Ishtar, or Ashtoreth, or whatever you choose to call her. I prefer the Phoenician name of Astarte.
There is, I believe, one known Grove of Astarte in this country—in the North on the Wall. I have no evidence, but Ilike to believe that we have a true and authentic31 Grove of Astarte here. Here, within this dense30 circle of trees, sacredrites were performed.’
“‘Sacred rites32,’ murmured Diana Ashley. Her eyes had a dreamy faraway look. ‘What were they, I wonder?’
“‘Not very reputable by all accounts,’ said Captain Rogers with a loud unmeaning laugh. ‘Rather hot stuff, Iimagine.’
“Haydon paid no attention to him.
“‘In the centre of the Grove there should be a Temple,’ he said. ‘I can’t run to Temples, but I have indulged in alittle fancy of my own.’
“We had at that moment stepped out into a little clearing in the centre of the trees. In the middle of it wassomething not unlike a summerhouse made of stone. Diana Ashley looked inquiringly at Haydon.
“‘I call it The Idol House,’ he said. ‘It is the Idol House of Astarte.’
“He led the way up to it. Inside, on a rude ebony pillar, there reposed33 a curious little image representing a womanwith crescent horns, seated on a lion.
“‘Astarte of the Phoenicians,’ said Haydon, ‘the Goddess of the Moon.’
“‘The Goddess of the Moon,’ cried Diana. ‘Oh, do let us have a wild orgy tonight. Fancy dress. And we will comeout here in the moonlight and celebrate the rites of Astarte.’
“I made a sudden movement and Elliot Haydon, Richard’s cousin, turned quickly to me.
“‘You don’t like all this, do you, Padre?’ he said.
“‘No,’ I said gravely. ‘I don’t.’
“He looked at me curiously. ‘But it is only tomfoolery. Dick can’t know that this really is a sacred grove. It is justa fancy of his; he likes to play with the idea. And anyway, if it were—’
“‘If it were?’
“‘Well—’ he laughed uncomfortably. ‘You don’t believe in that sort of thing, do you? You, a parson.’
“‘I am not sure that as a parson I ought not to believe in it.’
“‘But that sort of thing is all finished and done with.’
“‘I am not so sure,’ I said musingly34. ‘I only know this: I am not as a rule a sensitive man to atmosphere, but eversince I entered this grove of trees I have felt a curious impression and sense of evil and menace all round me.’
“He glanced uneasily over his shoulder.
“Yes,’ he said, ‘it is—it is queer, somehow. I know what you mean but I suppose it is only our imagination makesus feel like that. What do you say, Symonds?’
“The doctor was silent a minute or two before he replied. Then he said quietly:
“‘I don’t like it. I can’t tell you why. But somehow or other, I don’t like it.’
“At that moment Violet Mannering came across to me.
“‘I hate this place,’ she cried. ‘I hate it. Do let’s get out of it.’
“We moved away and the others followed us. Only Diana Ashley lingered. I turned my head over my shoulder andsaw her standing35 in front of the Idol House gazing earnestly at the image within it.
“The day was an unusually hot and beautiful one and Diana Ashley’s suggestion of a Fancy Dress party thatevening was received with general favour. The usual laughing and whispering and frenzied36 secret sewing took placeand when we all made our appearance for dinner there were the usual outcries of merriment. Rogers and his wife wereNeolithic hut dwellers—explaining the sudden lack of hearth37 rugs. Richard Haydon called himself a Phoenician sailor,and his cousin was a Brigand38 Chief, Dr. Symonds was a chef, Lady Mannering was a hospital nurse, and her daughterwas a Circassian slave. I myself was arrayed somewhat too warmly as a monk39. Diana Ashley came down last and wassomewhat of a disappointment to all of us, being wrapped in a shapeless black domino.
“‘The Unknown,’ she declared airily. ‘That is what I am. Now for goodness’ sake let’s go in to dinner.’
“After dinner we went outside. It was a lovely night, warm and soft, and the moon was rising.
“We wandered about and chatted and the time passed quickly enough. It must have been an hour later when werealized that Diana Ashley was not with us.
“‘Surely she has not gone to bed,’ said Richard Haydon.
“Violet Mannering shook her head.
“‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘I saw her going off in that direction about a quarter of an hour ago.’ She pointed as she spoketowards the grove of trees that showed black and shadowy in the moonlight.
“‘I wonder what she is up to,’ said Richard Haydon, ‘some devilment, I swear. Let’s go and see.’
“We all trooped off together, somewhat curious as to what Miss Ashley had been up to. Yet I, for one, felt acurious reluctance40 to enter that dark foreboding belt of trees. Something stronger than myself seemed to be holding meback and urging me not to enter. I felt more definitely convinced than ever of the essential evilness of the spot. I thinkthat some of the others experienced the same sensations that I did, though they would have been loath41 to admit it. Thetrees were so closely planted that the moonlight could not penetrate42. There were a dozen soft sounds all round us,whisperings and sighings. The feeling was eerie43 in the extreme, and by common consent we all kept close together.
“Suddenly we came out into the open clearing in the middle of the grove and stood rooted to the spot inamazement, for there, on the threshold of the Idol House, stood a shimmering44 figure wrapped tightly round indiaphanous gauze and with two crescent horns rising from the dark masses of her hair.
“‘My God!’ said Richard Haydon, and the sweat sprang out on his brow.
“But Violet Mannering was sharper.
“‘Why, it’s Diana,’ she exclaimed. ‘What has she done to herself? Oh, she looks quite different somehow!’
“The figure in the doorway45 raised her hands. She took a step forward and chanted in a high sweet voice.
“‘I am the Priestess of Astarte,’ she crooned. ‘Beware how you approach me, for I hold death in my hand.’
“‘Don’t do it, dear,’ protested Lady Mannering. ‘You give us the creeps, you really do.’
“Haydon sprang forward towards her.
“‘My God, Diana!’ he cried. ‘You are wonderful.’
“My eyes were accustomed to the moonlight now and I could see more plainly. She did, indeed, as Violet had said,look quite different. Her face was more definitely oriental, and her eyes more of slits46 with something cruel in theirgleam, and the strange smile on her lips was one that I had never seen there before.
“‘Beware,’ she cried warningly. ‘Do not approach the Goddess. If anyone lays a hand on me it is death.’
“‘You are wonderful, Diana,’ cried Haydon, ‘but do stop it. Somehow or other I—I don’t like it.’
“He was moving towards her across the grass and she flung out a hand towards him.
“‘Stop,’ she cried. ‘One step nearer and I will smite47 you with the magic of Astarte.’
“Richard Haydon laughed and quickened his pace, when all at once a curious thing happened. He hesitated for amoment, then seemed to stumble and fall headlong.
“He did not get up again, but lay where he had fallen prone48 on the ground.
“Suddenly Diana began to laugh hysterically49. It was a strange horrible sound breaking the silence of the glade50.
“With an oath Elliot sprang forward.
“‘I can’t stand this,’ he cried, ‘get up, Dick, get up, man.’
“But still Richard Haydon lay where he had fallen. Elliot Haydon reached his side, knelt by him and turned himgently over. He bent51 over him, peering in his face.
“Then he rose sharply to his feet and stood swaying a little.
“‘Doctor,’ he said. ‘Doctor, for God’s sake come. I—I think he is dead.’
“Symonds ran forward and Elliot rejoined us walking very slowly. He was looking down at his hands in a way Ididn’t understand.
“At that moment there was a wild scream from Diana.
“‘I have killed him,’ she cried. ‘Oh, my God! I didn’t mean to, but I have killed him.’
“And she fainted dead away, falling in a crumpled52 heap on the grass.
“There was a cry from Mrs. Rogers.
“‘Oh, do let us get away from this dreadful place,’ she wailed53, ‘anything might happen to us here. Oh, it’s awful!’
“Elliot got hold of me by the shoulder.
“‘It can’t be, man,’ he murmured. ‘I tell you it can’t be. A man cannot be killed like that. It is—it’s againstNature.’
“I tried to soothe54 him.
“‘There is some explanation,’ I said. ‘Your cousin must have had some unsuspected weakness of the heart. Theshock and excitement—’
“He interrupted me.
“‘You don’t understand,’ he said. He held up his hands for me to see and I noticed a red stain on them.
“‘Dick didn’t die of shock, he was stabbed—stabbed to the heart, and there is no weapon.’
“I stared at him incredulously. At that moment Symonds rose from his examination of the body and came towardsus. He was pale and shaking all over.
“‘Are we all mad?’ he said. ‘What is this place—that things like this can happen in it?’
“‘Then it is true,’ I said.
“He nodded.
“‘The wound is such as would be made by a long thin dagger55, but—there is no dagger there.’
“We all looked at each other.
“‘But it must be there,’ cried Elliot Haydon. ‘It must have dropped out. It must be on the ground somewhere. Letus look.’
“We peered about vainly on the ground. Violet Mannering said suddenly:
“‘Diana had something in her hand. A kind of dagger. I saw it. I saw it glitter when she threatened him.’
“Elliot Haydon shook his head.
“‘He never even got within three yards of her,’ he objected.
“Lady Mannering was bending over the prostrate56 girl on the ground.
“‘There is nothing in her hand now,’ she announced, ‘and I can’t see anything on the ground. Are you sure yousaw it, Violet? I didn’t.’
“Dr. Symonds came over to the girl.
“‘We must get her to the house,’ he said. ‘Rogers, will you help?’
“Between us we carried the unconscious girl back to the house. Then we returned and fetched the body of SirRichard.”
Dr. Pender broke off apologetically and looked round.
“One would know better nowadays,” he said, “owing to the prevalence of detective fiction. Every street boy knowsthat a body must be left where it is found. But in these days we had not the same knowledge, and accordingly wecarried the body of Richard Haydon back to his bedroom in the square granite house and the butler was despatched ona bicycle in search of the police—a ride of some twelve miles.
“It was then that Elliot Haydon drew me aside.
“‘Look here,’ he said. ‘I am going back to the grove. That weapon has got to be found.’
“‘If there was a weapon,’ I said doubtfully.
“He seized my arm and shook it fiercely. ‘You have got that superstitious58 stuff into your head. You think his deathwas supernatural; well, I am going back to the grove to find out.’
“I was curiously averse59 to his doing so. I did my utmost to dissuade60 him, but without result. The mere19 idea of thatthick circle of trees was abhorrent61 to me and I felt a strong premonition of further disaster. But Elliot was entirelypigheaded. He was, I think, scared himself, but would not admit it. He went off fully57 armed with determination to getto the bottom of the mystery.
“It was a very dreadful night, none of us could sleep, or attempt to do so. The police, when they arrived, werefrankly incredulous of the whole thing. They evinced a strong desire to cross-examine Miss Ashley, but there they hadto reckon with Dr. Symonds, who opposed the idea vehemently62. Miss Ashley had come out of her faint or trance andhe had given her a long sleeping draught63. She was on no account to be disturbed until the following day.
“It was not until about seven o’clock in the morning that anyone thought about Elliot Haydon, and then Symondssuddenly asked where he was. I explained what Elliot had done and Symonds’s grave face grew a shade graver. ‘Iwish he hadn’t. It is—it is foolhardy,’ he said.
“‘You don’t think any harm can have happened to him?’
“‘I hope not. I think, Padre, that you and I had better go and see.’
“I knew he was right, but it took all the courage in my command to nerve myself for the task. We set out togetherand entered once more that ill-fated grove of trees. We called him twice and got no reply. In a minute or two we cameinto the clearing, which looked pale and ghostly in the early morning light. Symonds clutched my arm and I uttered amuttered exclamation64. Last night when we had seen it in the moonlight there had been the body of a man lying facedownwards on the grass. Now in the early morning light the same sight met our eyes. Elliot Haydon was lying on theexact spot where his cousin had been.
“‘My God!’ said Symonds. ‘It has got him too!’
“We ran together over the grass. Elliot Haydon was unconscious but breathing feebly and this time there was nodoubt of what had caused the tragedy. A long thin bronze weapon remained in the wound.
“‘Got him through the shoulder, not through the heart. That is lucky,’ commented the doctor. ‘On my soul, I don’tknow what to think. At any rate he is not dead and he will be able to tell us what happened.’
“But that was just what Elliot Haydon was not able to do. His description was vague in the extreme. He had huntedabout vainly for the dagger and at last giving up the search had taken up a stand near the Idol House. It was then thathe became increasingly certain that someone was watching him from the belt of trees. He fought against thisimpression but was not able to shake it off. He described a cold strange wind that began to blow. It seemed to comenot from the trees but from the interior of the Idol House. He turned round, peering inside it. He saw the small figureof the Goddess and he felt he was under an optical delusion65. The figure seemed to grow larger and larger. Then hesuddenly received something that felt like a blow between his temples which sent him reeling back, and as he fell hewas conscious of a sharp burning pain in his left shoulder.
“The dagger was identified this time as being the identical one which had been dug up in the barrow on the hill,and which had been bought by Richard Haydon. Where he had kept it, in the house or in the Idol House in the grove,none seemed to know.
“The police were of the opinion, and always will be, that he was deliberately66 stabbed by Miss Ashley, but in viewof our combined evidence that she was never within three yards of him, they could not hope to support the chargeagainst her. So the thing has been and remains67 a mystery.”
There was a silence.
“There doesn’t seem anything to say,” said Joyce Lemprière at length. “It is all so horrible—and uncanny. Haveyou no explanation for yourself, Dr. Pender?”
The old man nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I have an explanation—a kind of explanation, that is. Rather a curious one—but to my mind it still leaves certain factors unaccounted for.”
“I have been to séances,” said Joyce, “and you may say what you like, very queer things can happen. I suppose onecan explain it by some kind of hypnotism. The girl really turned herself into a Priestess of Astarte, and I supposesomehow or other she must have stabbed him. Perhaps she threw the dagger that Miss Mannering saw in her hand.”
“Or it might have been a javelin68,” suggested Raymond West. “After all, moonlight is not very strong. She mighthave had a kind of spear in her hand and stabbed him at a distance, and then I suppose mass hypnotism comes intoaccount. I mean, you were all prepared to see him stricken down by supernatural means and so you saw it like that.”
“I have seen many wonderful things done with weapons and knives at music halls,” said Sir Henry. “I suppose it ispossible that a man could have been concealed69 in the belt of trees, and that he might from there have thrown a knife ora dagger with sufficient accuracy—agreeing, of course, that he was a professional. I admit that that seems rather far-fetched, but it seems the only really feasible theory. You remember that the other man was distinctly under theimpression that there was someone in the grove of trees watching him. As to Miss Mannering saying that Miss Ashleyhad a dagger in her hand and the others saying she hadn’t, that doesn’t surprise me. If you had had my experience youwould know that five persons’ account of the same thing will differ so widely as to be almost incredible.”
Mr. Petherick coughed.
“But in all these theories we seem to be overlooking one essential fact,” he remarked. “What became of theweapon? Miss Ashley could hardly get rid of a javelin standing as she was in the middle of an open space; and if ahidden murderer had thrown a dagger, then the dagger would still have been in the wound when the man was turnedover. We must, I think, discard all far-fetched theories and confine ourselves to sober fact.”
“And where does sober fact lead us?”
“Well, one thing seems quite clear. No one was near the man when he was stricken down, so the only person whocould have stabbed him was he himself. Suicide, in fact.”
“But why on earth should he wish to commit suicide?” asked Raymond West incredulously.
The lawyer coughed again. “Ah, that is a question of theory once more,” he said. “At the moment I am notconcerned with theories. It seems to me, excluding the supernatural in which I do not for one moment believe, that thatwas the only way things could have happened. He stabbed himself, and as he fell his arms flew out, wrenching70 thedagger from the wound and flinging it far into the zone of the trees. That is, I think, although somewhat unlikely, apossible happening.”
“I don’t like to say, I am sure,” said Miss Marple. “It all perplexes me very much indeed. But curious things dohappen. At Lady Sharpley’s garden party last year the man who was arranging the clock golf tripped over one of thenumbers—quite unconscious he was—and didn’t come round for about five minutes.”
“Yes, dear Aunt,” said Raymond gently, “but he wasn’t stabbed, was he?”
“Of course not, dear,” said Miss Marple. “That is what I am telling you. Of course there is only one way that poorSir Richard could have been stabbed, but I do wish I knew what caused him to stumble in the first place. Of course, itmight have been a tree root. He would be looking at the girl, of course, and when it is moonlight one does trip overthings.”
“You say that there is only one way that Sir Richard could have been stabbed, Miss Marple,” said the clergyman,looking at her curiously.
“It is very sad and I don’t like to think of it. He was a right-handed man, was he not? I mean to stab himself in theleft shoulder he must have been. I was always so sorry for poor Jack71 Baynes in the War. He shot himself in the foot,you remember, after very severe fighting at Arras. He told me about it when I went to see him in hospital, and veryashamed of it he was. I don’t expect this poor man, Elliot Haydon, profited much by his wicked crime.”
“Elliot Haydon,” cried Raymond. “You think he did it?”
“I don’t see how anyone else could have done it,” said Miss Marple, opening her eyes in gentle surprise. “I meanif, as Mr. Petherick so wisely says, one looks at the facts and disregards all that atmosphere of heathen goddesseswhich I don’t think is very nice. He went up to him first and turned him over, and of course to do that he would haveto have had his back to them all, and being dressed as a brigand chief he would be sure to have a weapon of some kindin his belt. I remember dancing with a man dressed as a brigand chief when I was a young girl. He had five kinds ofknives and daggers72, and I can’t tell you how awkward and uncomfortable it was for his partner.”
All eyes were turned towards Dr. Pender.
“I knew the truth,” said he, “five years after that tragedy occurred. It came in the shape of a letter written to me byElliot Haydon. He said in it that he fancied that I had always suspected him. He said it was a sudden temptation. Hetoo loved Diana Ashley, but he was only a poor struggling barrister. With Richard out of the way and inheriting histitle and estates, he saw a wonderful prospect73 opening up before him. The dagger had jerked out of his belt as he kneltdown by his cousin, and almost before he had time to think he drove it in and returned it to his belt again. He stabbedhimself later in order to divert suspicion. He wrote to me on the eve of starting on an expedition to the South Pole incase, as he said, he should never come back. I do not think that he meant to come back, and I know that, as MissMarple has said, his crime profited him nothing. ‘For five years,’ he wrote, ‘I have lived in Hell. I hope, at least, that Imay expiate74 my crime by dying honourably75.’”
There was a pause.
“And he did die honourably,” said Sir Henry. “You have changed the names in your story, Dr. Pender, but I think Irecognize the man you mean.”
“As I said,” went on the old clergyman, “I do not think that explanation quite covers the facts. I still think therewas an evil influence in that grove, an influence that directed Elliot Haydon’s action. Even to this day I can never thinkwithout a shudder76 of The Idol House of Astarte.”
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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imbued
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| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
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saturated
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larches
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| n.落叶松（木材）( larch的名词复数 ) | |
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superstition
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robust
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chuckle
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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moor
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situated
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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panorama
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| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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excavated
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| v.挖掘( excavate的过去式和过去分词 )；开凿；挖出；发掘 | |
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implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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dwellers
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| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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densely
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| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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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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frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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brigand
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| n.土匪，强盗 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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smite
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| v.重击；彻底击败；n.打；尝试；一点儿 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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glade
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| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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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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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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averse
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| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
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dissuade
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| v.劝阻，阻止 | |
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abhorrent
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| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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javelin
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| n.标枪，投枪 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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daggers
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| 匕首，短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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expiate
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| v.抵补，赎罪 | |
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honourably
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| adv.可尊敬地，光荣地，体面地 | |
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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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