They had pushed, as I have said, into the still unknown regions of the West. For some time they followed the track of Mormon caravans5, guiding themselves in that vast and melancholy6 desert by the skeletons of men and animals. Then they inclined their route a little to the north, and, losing even these dire7 memorials, came into a country of forbidding stillness.
I have often heard my father dwell upon the features of that ride: rock, cliff, and barren moor8 alternated; the streams were very far between; and neither beast nor bird disturbed the solitude9. On the fortieth day they had already run so short of food that it was judged advisable to call a halt and scatter11 upon all sides to hunt. A great fire was built, that its smoke might serve to rally them; and each man of the party mounted and struck off at a venture into the surrounding desert.
My father rode for many hours with a steep range of cliffs upon the one hand, very black and horrible; and upon the other an unwatered vale dotted with boulders12 like the site of some subverted13 city. At length he found the slot of a great animal, and from the claw-marks and the hair among the brush, judged that he was on the track of a cinnamon bear of most unusual size. He quickened the pace of his steed, and still following the quarry14, came at last to the division of two watersheds15. On the far side the country was exceeding intricate and difficult, heaped with boulders, and dotted here and there with a few pines, which seemed to indicate the neighbourhood of water. Here, then, he picketed16 his horse, and relying on his trusty rifle, advanced alone into that wilderness17.
Presently, in the great silence that reigned18, he was aware of the sound of running water to his right; and leaning in that direction, was rewarded by a scene of natural wonder and human pathos19 strangely intermixed. The stream ran at the bottom of a narrow and winding20 passage, whose wall-like sides of rock were sometimes for miles together unscalable by man. The water, when the stream was swelled21 with rains, must have filled it from side to side; the sun’s rays only plumbed22 it in the hour of noon; the wind, in that narrow and damp funnel23, blew tempestuously24. And yet, in the bottom of this den25, immediately below my father’s eyes as he leaned over the margin27 of the cliff, a party of some half a hundred men, women, and children lay scattered28 uneasily among the rocks. They lay some upon their backs, some prone29, and not one stirring; their upturned faces seemed all of an extraordinary paleness and emaciation30; and from time to time, above the washing of the stream, a faint sound of moaning mounted to my father’s ears.
While he thus looked, an old man got staggering to his feet, unwound his blanket, and laid it, with great gentleness, on a young girl who sat hard by propped31 against a rock. The girl did not seem to be conscious of the act; and the old man, after having looked upon her with the most engaging pity, returned to his former bed and lay down again uncovered on the turf. But the scene had not passed without observation even in that starving camp. From the very outskirts32 of the party, a man with a white beard and seemingly of venerable years, rose upon his knees, and came crawling stealthily among the sleepers33 towards the girl; and judge of my father’s indignation, when he beheld34 this cowardly miscreant35 strip from her both the coverings and return with them to his original position. Here he lay down for a while below his spoils, and, as my father imagined, feigned36 to be asleep; but presently he had raised himself again upon one elbow, looked with sharp scrutiny37 at his companions, and then swiftly carried his hand into his bosom38 and thence to his mouth. By the movement of his jaws39 he must be eating; in that camp of famine he had reserved a store of nourishment40; and while his companions lay in the stupor41 of approaching death, secretly restored his powers.
My father was so incensed42 at what he saw that he raised his rifle; and but for an accident, he has often declared, he would have shot the fellow dead upon the spot. How different would then have been my history! But it was not to be: even as he raised the barrel, his eye lighted on the bear, as it crawled along a ledge43 some way below him; and ceding44 to the hunters instinct, it was at the brute45, not at the man, that he discharged his piece. The bear leaped and fell into a pool of the river; the canyon46 re-echoed the report; and in a moment the camp was afoot. With cries that were scarce human, stumbling, falling and throwing each other down, these starving people rushed upon the quarry; and before my father, climbing down by the ledge, had time to reach the level of the stream, many were already satisfying their hunger on the raw flesh, and a fire was being built by the more dainty.
His arrival was for some time unremarked. He stood in the midst of these tottering47 and clay-faced marionettes; he was surrounded by their cries; but their whole soul was fixed48 on the dead carcass; even those who were too weak to move, lay, half-turned over, with their eyes riveted49 upon the bear; and my father, seeing himself stand as though invisible in the thick of this dreary50 hubbub51, was seized with a desire to weep. A touch upon the arm restrained him. Turning about, he found himself face to face with the old man he had so nearly killed; and yet, at the second glance, recognised him for no old man at all, but one in the full strength of his years, and of a strong, speaking, and intellectual countenance52 stigmatised by weariness and famine. He beckoned53 my father near the cliff, and there, in the most private whisper, begged for brandy. My father looked at him with scorn: ‘You remind me,’ he said, ‘of a neglected duty. Here is my flask54; it contains enough, I trust, to revive the women of your party; and I will begin with her whom I saw you robbing of her blankets.’ And with that, not heeding55 his appeals, my father turned his back upon the egoist.
The girl still lay reclined against the rock; she lay too far sunk in the first stage of death to have observed the bustle56 round her couch; but when my father had raised her head, put the flask to her lips, and forced or aided her to swallow some drops of the restorative, she opened her languid eyes and smiled upon him faintly. Never was there a smile of a more touching57 sweetness; never were eyes more deeply violet, more honestly eloquent59 of the soul! I speak with knowledge, for these were the same eyes that smiled upon me in the cradle. From her who was to be his wife, my father, still jealously watched and followed by the man with the grey beard, carried his attentions to all the women of the party, and gave the last drainings of his flask to those among the men who seemed in the most need.
‘Is there none left? not a drop for me?’ said the man with the beard.
‘Not one drop,’ replied my father; ‘and if you find yourself in want, let me counsel you to put your hand into the pocket of your coat.’
‘Ah!’ cried the other, ‘you misjudge me. You think me one who clings to life for selfish and commonplace considerations. But let me tell you, that were all this caravan4 to perish, the world would but be lightened of a weight. These are but human insects, pullulating, thick as May-flies, in the slums of European cities, whom I myself have plucked from degradation60 and misery61, from the dung-heap and gin-palace door. And you compare their lives with mine!’
‘You are then a Mormon missionary62?’ asked my father.
‘Oh!’ cried the man, with a strange smile, ‘a Mormon missionary if you will! I value not the title. Were I no more than that, I could have died without a murmur63. But with my life as a physician is bound up the knowledge of great secrets and the future of man. This it was, when we missed the caravan, tried for a short cut and wandered to this desolate64 ravine, that ate into my soul, and, in five days, has changed my beard from ebony to silver.’
‘And you are a physician,’ mused65 my father, looking on his face, ‘bound by oath to succour man in his distresses67.’
‘Sir,’ returned the Mormon, ‘my name is Grierson: you will hear that name again; and you will then understand that my duty was not to this caravan of paupers68, but to mankind at large.’
My father turned to the remainder of the party, who were now sufficiently69 revived to hear; told them that he would set off at once to bring help from his own party; ‘and,’ he added, ‘if you be again reduced to such extremities70, look round you, and you will see the earth strewn with assistance. Here, for instance, growing on the under side of fissures71 in this cliff, you will perceive a yellow moss72. Trust me, it is both edible73 and excellent.’
‘Ha!’ said Doctor Grierson, ‘you know botany!’
‘Not I alone,’ returned my father, lowering his voice; ‘for see where these have been scraped away. Am I right? Was that your secret store?’
My father’s comrades, he found, when he returned to the signal-fire, had made a good day’s hunting. They were thus the more easily persuaded to extend assistance to the Mormon caravan; and the next day beheld both parties on the march for the frontiers of Utah. The distance to be traversed was not great; but the nature of the country, and the difficulty of procuring74 food, extended the time to nearly three weeks; and my father had thus ample leisure to know and appreciate the girl whom he had succoured. I will call my mother Lucy. Her family name I am not at liberty to mention; it is one you would know well. By what series of undeserved calamities75 this innocent flower of maidenhood76, lovely, refined by education, ennobled by the finest taste, was thus cast among the horrors of a Mormon caravan, I must not stay to tell you. Let it suffice, that even in these untoward78 circumstances, she found a heart worthy79 of her own. The ardour of attachment80 which united my father and mother was perhaps partly due to the strange manner of their meeting; it knew, at least, no bounds either divine or human; my father, for her sake, determined81 to renounce82 his ambitions and abjure83 his faith; and a week had not yet passed upon the march before he had resigned from his party, accepted the Mormon doctrine84, and received the promise of my mother’s hand on the arrival of the party at Salt Lake.
The marriage took place, and I was its only offspring. My father prospered86 exceedingly in his affairs, remained faithful to my mother; and though you may wonder to hear it, I believe there were few happier homes in any country than that in which I saw the light and grew to girlhood. We were, indeed, and in spite of all our wealth, avoided as heretics and half-believers by the more precise and pious87 of the faithful: Young himself, that formidable tyrant88, was known to look askance upon my father’s riches; but of this I had no guess. I dwelt, indeed, under the Mormon system, with perfect innocence89 and faith. Some of our friends had many wives; but such was the custom; and why should it surprise me more than marriage itself? From time to time one of our rich acquaintances would disappear, his family be broken up, his wives and houses shared among the elders of the Church, and his memory only recalled with bated breath and dreadful headshakings. When I had been very still, and my presence perhaps was forgotten, some such topic would arise among my elders by the evening fire; I would see them draw the closer together and look behind them with scared eyes; and I might gather from their whisperings how some one, rich, honoured, healthy, and in the prime of his days, some one, perhaps, who had taken me on his knees a week before, had in one hour been spirited from home and family, and vanished like an image from a mirror, leaving not a print behind. It was terrible, indeed; but so was death, the universal law. And even if the talk should wax still bolder, full of ominous91 silences and nods, and I should hear named in a whisper the Destroying Angels, how was a child to understand these mysteries? I heard of a Destroying Angel as some more happy child might hear in England of a bishop92 or a rural dean, with vague respect and without the wish for further information. Life anywhere, in society as in nature, rests upon dread90 foundations; I beheld safe roads, a garden blooming in the desert, pious people crowding to worship; I was aware of my parents’ tenderness and all the harmless luxuries of my existence; and why should I pry93 beneath this honest seeming surface for the mysteries on which it stood?
We dwelt originally in the city; but at an early date we moved to a beautiful house in a green dingle, musical with splashing water, and surrounded on almost every side by twenty miles of poisonous and rocky desert. The city was thirty miles away; there was but one road, which went no further than my father’s door; the rest were bridle-tracks impassable in winter; and we thus dwelt in a solitude inconceivable to the European. Our only neighbour was Dr. Grierson. To my young eyes, after the hair-oiled, chin-bearded elders of the city, and the ill-favoured and mentally stunted95 women of their harems, there was something agreeable in the correct manner, the fine bearing, the thin white hair and beard, and the piercing looks of the old doctor. Yet, though he was almost our only visitor, I never wholly overcame a sense of fear in his presence; and this disquietude was rather fed by the awful solitude in which he lived and the obscurity that hung about his occupations. His house was but a mile or two from ours, but very differently placed. It stood overlooking the road on the summit of a steep slope, and planted close against a range of overhanging bluffs96. Nature, you would say, had here desired to imitate the works of man; for the slope was even, like the glacis of a fort, and the cliffs of a constant height, like the ramparts of a city. Not even spring could change one feature of that desolate scene; and the windows looked down across a plain, snowy with alkali, to ranges of cold stone sierras on the north. Twice or thrice I remember passing within view of this forbidding residence; and seeing it always shuttered, smokeless, and deserted98, I remarked to my parents that some day it would certainly be robbed.
‘Ah, no,’ said my father, ‘never robbed;’ and I observed a strange conviction in his tone.
At last, and not long before the blow fell on my unhappy family, I chanced to see the doctor’s house in a new light. My father was ill; my mother confined to his bedside; and I was suffered to go, under the charge of our driver, to the lonely house some twenty miles away, where our packages were left for us. The horse cast a shoe; night overtook us halfway99 home; and it was well on for three in the morning when the driver and I, alone in a light waggon100, came to that part of the road which ran below the doctor’s house. The moon swam clear; the cliffs and mountains in this strong light lay utterly101 deserted; but the house, from its station on the top of the long slope and close under the bluff97, not only shone abroad from every window like a place of festival, but from the great chimney at the west end poured forth102 a coil of smoke so thick and so voluminous, that it hung for miles along the windless night air, and its shadow lay far abroad in the moonlight upon the glittering alkali. As we continued to draw near, besides, a regular and panting throb103 began to divide the silence. First it seemed to me like the beating of a heart; and next it put into my mind the thought of some giant, smothered104 under mountains and still, with incalculable effort, fetching breath. I had heard of the railway, though I had not seen it, and I turned to ask the driver if this resembled it. But some look in his eye, some pallor, whether of fear or moonlight on his face, caused the words to die upon my lips. We continued, therefore, to advance in silence, till we were close below the lighted house; when suddenly, without one premonitory rustle105, there burst forth a report of such a bigness that it shook the earth and set the echoes of the mountains thundering from cliff to cliff. A pillar of amber106 flame leaped from the chimney-top and fell in multitudes of sparks; and at the same time the lights in the windows turned for one instant ruby107 red and then expired. The driver had checked his horse instinctively108, and the echoes were still rumbling109 farther off among the mountains, when there broke from the now darkened interior a series of yells — whether of man or woman it was impossible to guess — the door flew open, and there ran forth into the moonlight, at the top of the long slope, a figure clad in white, which began to dance and leap and throw itself down, and roll as if in agony, before the house. I could no more restrain my cries; the driver laid his lash94 about the horse’s flank, and we fled up the rough track at the peril110 of our lives; and did not draw rein111 till, turning the corner of the mountain, we beheld my father’s ranch112 and deep, green groves113 and gardens, sleeping in the tranquil114 light.
This was the one adventure of my life, until my father had climbed to the very topmost point of material prosperity, and I myself had reached the age of seventeen. I was still innocent and merry like a child; tended my garden or ran upon the hills in glad simplicity115; gave not a thought to coquetry or to material cares; and if my eye rested on my own image in a mirror or some sylvan116 spring, it was to seek and recognise the features of my parents. But the fears which had long pressed on others were now to be laid on my youth. I had thrown myself, one sultry, cloudy afternoon, on a divan117; the windows stood open on the verandah, where my mother sat with her embroidery118; and when my father joined her from the garden, their conversation, clearly audible to me, was of so startling a nature that it held me enthralled120 where I lay.
‘The blow has come,’ my father said, after a long pause.
I could hear my mother start and turn, but in words she made no reply.
‘Yes,’ continued my father, ‘I have received to-day a list of all that I possess; of all, I say; of what I have lent privately121 to men whose lips are sealed with terror; of what I have buried with my own hand on the bare mountain, when there was not a bird in heaven. Does the air, then, carry secrets? Are the hills of glass? Do the stones we tread upon preserve the footprint to betray us? Oh, Lucy, Lucy, that we should have come to such a country!’
‘But this,’ returned my mother, ‘is no very new or very threatening event. You are accused of some concealment122. You will pay more taxes in the future, and be mulcted in a fine. It is disquieting123, indeed, to find our acts so spied upon, and the most private known. But is this new? Have we not long feared and suspected every blade of grass?’
‘Ay, and our shadows!’ cried my father. ‘But all this is nothing. Here is the letter that accompanied the list.’
I heard my mother turn the pages, and she was some time silent.
‘I see,’ she said at last; and then, with the tone of one reading: ‘“From a believer so largely blessed by Providence124 with this world’s goods,”’ she continued, ‘“the Church awaits in confidence some signal mark of piety125.” There lies the sting. Am I not right? These are the words you fear?’
‘These are the words,’ replied my father. ‘Lucy, you remember Priestley? Two days before he disappeared, he carried me to the summit of an isolated126 butte; we could see around us for ten miles; sure, if in any quarter of this land a man were safe from spies, it were in such a station; but it was in the very ague-fit of terror that he told me, and that I heard, his story. He had received a letter such as this; and he submitted to my approval an answer, in which he offered to resign a third of his possessions. I conjured127 him, as he valued life, to raise his offering; and, before we parted, he had doubled the amount. Well, two days later he was gone — gone from the chief street of the city in the hour of noon — and gone for ever. O God!’ cried my father, ‘by what art do they thus spirit out of life the solid body? What death do they command that leaves no traces? that this material structure, these strong arms, this skeleton that can resist the grave for centuries, should be thus reft in a moment from the world of sense? A horror dwells in that thought more awful than mere128 death.’
‘Is there no hope in Grierson?’ asked my mother.
‘Dismiss the thought,’ replied my father. ‘He now knows all that I can teach, and will do naught129 to save me. His power, besides, is small, his own danger not improbably more imminent130 than mine; for he, too, lives apart; he leaves his wives neglected and unwatched; he is openly cited for an unbeliever; and unless he buys security at a more awful price — but no; I will not believe it: I have no love for him, but I will not believe it.’
‘Believe what?’ asked my mother; and then, with a change of note, ‘But oh, what matters it?’ she cried. ‘Abimelech, there is but one way open: we must fly!’
‘It is in vain,’ returned my father. ‘I should but involve you in my fate. To leave this land is hopeless: we are closed in it as men are closed in life; and there is no issue but the grave.’
‘We can but die then,’ replied my mother. ‘Let us at least die together. Let not Asenath * and myself survive you. Think to what a fate we should be doomed131!’
* In this name the accent falls upon the E; the S is sibilant.
My father was unable to resist her tender violence; and though I could see he nourished not one spark of hope, he consented to desert his whole estate, beyond some hundreds of dollars that he had by him at the moment, and to flee that night, which promised to be dark and cloudy. As soon as the servants were asleep, he was to load two mules132 with provisions; two others were to carry my mother and myself; and, striking through the mountains by an unfrequented trail, we were to make a fair stroke for liberty and life. As soon as they had thus decided133, I showed myself at the window, and, owning that I had heard all, assured them that they could rely on my prudence134 and devotion. I had no fear, indeed, but to show myself unworthy of my birth; I held my life in my hand without alarm; and when my father, weeping upon my neck, had blessed Heaven for the courage of his child, it was with a sentiment of pride and some of the joy that warriors135 take in war, that I began to look forward to the perils136 of our flight.
Before midnight, under an obscure and starless heaven, we had left far behind us the plantations137 of the valley, and were mounting a certain canyon in the hills, narrow, encumbered138 with great rocks, and echoing with the roar of a tumultuous torrent140. Cascade141 after cascade thundered and hung up its flag of whiteness in the night, or fanned our faces with the wet wind of its descent. The trail was breakneck, and led to famine-guarded deserts; it had been long since deserted for more practicable routes; and it was now a part of the world untrod from year to year by human footing. Judge of our dismay, when turning suddenly an angle of the cliffs, we found a bright bonfire blazing by itself under an impending142 rock; and on the face of the rock, drawn143 very rudely with charred144 wood, the great Open Eye which is the emblem145 of the Mormon faith. We looked upon each other in the firelight; my mother broke into a passion of tears; but not a word was said. The mules were turned about; and leaving that great eye to guard the lonely canyon, we retraced146 our steps in silence. Day had not yet broken ere we were once more at home, condemned147 beyond reprieve148.
What answer my father sent I was not told; but two days later, a little before sundown, I saw a plain, honest-looking man ride slowly up the road in a great pother of dust. He was clad in homespun, with a broad straw hat; wore a patriarchal beard; and had an air of a simple rustic149 farmer, that was, in my eyes, very reassuring150. He was, indeed, a very honest man and pious Mormon; with no liking151 for his errand, though neither he nor any one in Utah dared to disobey; and it was with every mark of diffidence that he had had himself announced as Mr. Aspinwall, and entered the room where our unhappy family was gathered. My mother and me, he awkwardly enough dismissed; and as soon as he was alone with my father laid before him a blank signature of President Young’s, and offered him a choice of services: either to set out as a missionary to the tribes about the White Sea, or to join the next day, with a party of Destroying Angels, in the massacre152 of sixty German immigrants. The last, of course, my father could not entertain, and the first he regarded as a pretext153: even if he could consent to leave his wife defenceless, and to collect fresh victims for the tyranny under which he was himself oppressed, he felt sure he would never be suffered to return. He refused both; and Aspinwall, he said, betrayed sincere emotion, part religious, at the spectacle of such disobedience, but part human, in pity for my father and his family. He besought154 him to reconsider his decision; and at length, finding he could not prevail, gave him till the moon rose to settle his affairs, and say farewell to wife and daughter. ‘For,’ said he, ‘then, at the latest, you must ride with me.’
I dare not dwell upon the hours that followed: they fled all too fast; and presently the moon out-topped the eastern range, and my father and Mr. Aspinwall set forth, side by side, on their nocturnal journey. My mother, though still bearing an heroic countenance, had hastened to shut herself in her apartment, thenceforward solitary155; and I, alone in the dark house, and consumed by grief and apprehension156, made haste to saddle my Indian pony157, to ride up to the corner of the mountain, and to enjoy one farewell sight of my departing father. The two men had set forth at a deliberate pace; nor was I long behind them, when I reached the point of view. I was the more amazed to see no moving creature in the landscape. The moon, as the saying is, shone bright as day; and nowhere, under the whole arch of night, was there a growing tree, a bush, a farm, a patch of tillage, or any evidence of man, but one. From the corner where I stood, a rugged158 bastion of the line of bluffs concealed159 the doctor’s house; and across the top of that projection160 the soft night wind carried and unwound about the hills a coil of sable10 smoke. What fuel could produce a vapour so sluggish161 to dissipate in that dry air, or what furnace pour it forth so copiously162, I was unable to conceive; but I knew well enough that it came from the doctor’s chimney; I saw well enough that my father had already disappeared; and in despite of reason, I connected in my mind the loss of that dear protector with the ribbon of foul163 smoke that trailed along the mountains.
Days passed, and still my mother and I waited in vain for news; a week went by, a second followed, but we heard no word of the father and husband. As smoke dissipates, as the image glides164 from the mirror, so in the ten or twenty minutes that I had spent in getting my horse and following upon his trail, had that strong and brave man vanished out of life. Hope, if any hope we had, fled with every hour; the worst was now certain for my father, the worst was to be dreaded165 for his defenceless family. Without weakness, with a desperate calm at which I marvel166 when I look back upon it, the widow and the orphan167 awaited the event. On the last day of the third week we rose in the morning to find ourselves alone in the house, alone, so far as we searched, on the estate; all our attendants, with one accord, had fled: and as we knew them to be gratefully devoted169, we drew the darkest intimations from their flight. The day passed, indeed, without event; but in the fall of the evening we were called at last into the verandah by the approaching clink of horse’s hoofs170.
The doctor, mounted on an Indian pony, rode into the garden, dismounted, and saluted171 us. He seemed much more bent172, and his hair more silvery than ever; but his demeanour was composed, serious, and not unkind.
‘Madam,’ said he, ‘I am come upon a weighty errand; and I would have you recognise it as an effect of kindness in the President, that he should send as his ambassador your only neighbour and your husband’s oldest friend in Utah.’
‘Sir,’ said my mother, ‘I have but one concern, one thought. You know well what it is. Speak: my husband?’
‘Madam,’ returned the doctor, taking a chair on the verandah, ‘if you were a silly child, my position would now be painfully embarrassing. You are, on the other hand, a woman of great intelligence and fortitude173: you have, by my forethought, been allowed three weeks to draw your own conclusions and to accept the inevitable174. Farther words from me are, I conceive, superfluous175.’
My mother was as pale as death, and trembled like a reed; I gave her my hand, and she kept it in the folds of her dress and wrung176 it till I could have cried aloud. ‘Then, sir,’ said she at last, ‘you speak to deaf ears. If this be indeed so, what have I to do with errands? What do I ask of Heaven but to die?’
‘Come,’ said the doctor, ‘command yourself. I bid you dismiss all thoughts of your late husband, and bring a clear mind to bear upon your own future and the fate of that young girl.’
‘You bid me dismiss —’ began my mother. ‘Then you know!’ she cried.
‘I know,’ replied the doctor.
‘You know?’ broke out the poor woman. ‘Then it was you who did the deed! I tear off the mask, and with dread and loathing177 see you as you are — you, whom the poor fugitive178 beholds180 in nightmares, and awakes raving181 — you, the Destroying Angel!’
‘Well, madam, and what then?’ returned the doctor. ‘Have not my fate and yours been similar? Are we not both immured182 in this strong prison of Utah? Have you not tried to flee, and did not the Open Eye confront you in the canyon? Who can escape the watch of that unsleeping eye of Utah? Not I, at least. Horrible tasks have, indeed, been laid upon me; and the most ungrateful was the last; but had I refused my offices, would that have spared your husband? You know well it would not. I, too, had perished along with him; nor would I have been able to alleviate183 his last moments, nor could I to-day have stood between his family and the hand of Brigham Young.’
‘Ah!’ cried I, ‘and could you purchase life by such concessions184?’
‘Young lady,’ answered the doctor, ‘I both could and did; and you will live to thank me for that baseness. You have a spirit, Asenath, that it pleases me to recognise. But we waste time. Mr. Fonblanque’s estate reverts185, as you doubtless imagine, to the Church; but some part of it has been reserved for him who is to marry the family; and that person, I should perhaps tell you without more delay, is no other than myself.’
At this odious186 proposal my mother and I cried out aloud, and clung together like lost souls.
‘It is as I supposed,’ resumed the doctor, with the same measured utterance187. ‘You recoil188 from this arrangement. Do you expect me to convince you? You know very well that I have never held the Mormon view of women. Absorbed in the most arduous189 studies, I have left the slatterns whom they call my wives to scratch and quarrel among themselves; of me, they have had nothing but my purse; such was not the union I desired, even if I had the leisure to pursue it. No: you need not, madam, and my old friend’— and here the doctor rose and bowed with something of gallantry —‘you need not apprehend190 my importunities. On the contrary, I am rejoiced to read in you a Roman spirit; and if I am obliged to bid you follow me at once, and that in the name, not of my wish, but of my orders, I hope it will be found that we are of a common mind.’
So, bidding us dress for the road, he took a lamp (for the night had now fallen) and set off to the stable to prepare our horses.
‘What does it mean?— what will become of us?’ I cried.
‘Not that, at least,’ replied my mother, shuddering191. ‘So far we can trust him. I seem to read among his words a certain tragic192 promise. Asenath, if I leave you, if I die, you will not forget your miserable193 parents?’
Thereupon we fell to cross-purposes: I beseeching194 her to explain her words; she putting me by, and continuing to recommend the doctor for a friend. ‘The doctor!’ I cried at last; ‘the man who killed my father?’
‘Nay195,’ said she, ‘let us be just. I do believe before, Heaven, he played the friendliest part. And he alone, Asenath, can protect you in this land of death.’
At this the doctor returned, leading our two horses; and when we were all in the saddle, he bade me ride on before, as he had matter to discuss with Mrs. Fonblanque. They came at a foot’s pace, eagerly conversing196 in a whisper; and presently after the moon rose and showed them looking eagerly in each other’s faces as they went, my mother laying her hand upon the doctor’s arm, and the doctor himself, against his usual custom, making vigorous gestures of protest or asseveration.
At the foot of the track which ascended197 the talus of the mountain to his door, the doctor overtook me at a trot198.
‘Here,’ he said, ‘we shall dismount; and as your mother prefers to be alone, you and I shall walk together to my house.’
‘Shall I see her again?’ I asked.
‘I give you my word,’ he said, and helped me to alight. ‘We leave the horses here,’ he added. ‘There are no thieves in this stone wilderness.’
The track mounted gradually, keeping the house in view. The windows were once more bright; the chimney once more vomited199 smoke; but the most absolute silence reigned, and, but for the figure of my mother very slowly following in our wake, I felt convinced there was no human soul within a range of miles. At the thought, I looked upon the doctor, gravely walking by my side, with his bowed shoulders and white hair, and then once more at his house, lit up and pouring smoke like some industrious200 factory. And then my curiosity broke forth. ‘In Heaven’s name,’ I cried, ‘what do you make in this inhuman201 desert?’
He looked at me with a peculiar202 smile, and answered with an evasion203 —
‘This is not the first time,’ said he, ‘that you have seen my furnaces alight. One morning, in the small hours, I saw you driving past; a delicate experiment miscarried; and I cannot acquit204 myself of having startled either your driver or the horse that drew you.’
‘What!’ cried I, beholding205 again in fancy the antics of the figure, ‘could that be you?’
‘It was I,’ he replied; ‘but do not fancy that I was mad. I was in agony. I had been scalded cruelly.’
We were now near the house, which, unlike the ordinary houses of the country, was built of hewn stone and very solid. Stone, too, was its foundation, stone its background. Not a blade of grass sprouted206 among the broken mineral about the walls, not a flower adorned207 the windows. Over the door, by way of sole adornment208, the Mormon Eye was rudely sculptured; I had been brought up to view that emblem from my childhood; but since the night of our escape, it had acquired a new significance, and set me shrinking. The smoke rolled voluminously from the chimney top, its edges ruddy with the fire; and from the far corner of the building, near the ground, angry puffs209 of steam shone snow-white in the moon and vanished.
The doctor opened the door and paused upon the threshold. ‘You ask me what I make here,’ he observed. ‘Two things: Life and Death.’ And he motioned me to enter.
‘I shall await my mother,’ said I.
‘Child,’ he replied, ‘look at me: am I not old and broken? Of us two, which is the stronger, the young maiden77 or the withered210 man?’
I bowed, and passing by him, entered a vestibule or kitchen, lit by a good fire and a shaded reading-lamp. It was furnished only with a dresser, a rude table, and some wooden benches; and on one of these the doctor motioned me to take a seat; and passing by another door into the interior of the house, he left me to myself. Presently I heard the jar of iron from the far end of the building; and this was followed by the same throbbing211 noise that had startled me in the valley, but now so near at hand as to be menacing by loudness, and even to shake the house with every recurrence212 of the stroke. I had scarce time to master my alarm when the doctor returned, and almost in the same moment my mother appeared upon the threshold. But how am I to describe to you the peace and ravishment of that face? Years seemed to have passed over her head during that brief ride, and left her younger and fairer; her eyes shone, her smile went to my heart; she seemed no more a woman but the angel of ecstatic tenderness. I ran to her in a kind of terror; but she shrank a little back and laid her finger on her lips, with something arch and yet unearthly. To the doctor, on the contrary, she reached out her hand as to a friend and helper; and so strange was the scene that I forgot to be offended.
‘Lucy,’ said the doctor, ‘all is prepared. Will you go alone, or shall your daughter follow us?’
‘Let Asenath come,’ she answered, ‘dear Asenath! At this hour, when I am purified of fear and sorrow, and already survive myself and my affections, it is for your sake, and not for mine, that I desire her presence. Were she shut out, dear friend, it is to be feared she might misjudge your kindness.’
‘Mother,’ I cried wildly, ‘mother, what is this?’
But my mother, with her radiant smile, said only ‘Hush!’ as though I were a child again, and tossing in some fever-fit; and the doctor bade me be silent and trouble her no more. ‘You have made a choice,’ he continued, addressing my mother, ‘that has often strangely tempted213 me. The two extremes: all, or else nothing; never, or this very hour upon the clock — these have been my incongruous desires. But to accept the middle term, to be content with a half-gift, to flicker214 awhile and to burn out — never for an hour, never since I was born, has satisfied the appetite of my ambition.’ He looked upon my mother fixedly215, much of admiration216 and some touch of envy in his eyes; then, with a profound sigh, he led the way into the inner room.
It was very long. From end to end it was lit up by many lamps, which by the changeful colour of their light, and by the incessant217 snapping sounds with which they burned, I have since divined to be electric. At the extreme end an open door gave us a glimpse into what must have been a lean-to shed beside the chimney; and this, in strong contrast to the room, was painted with a red reverberation218 as from furnace-doors. The walls were lined with books and glazed219 cases, the tables crowded with the implements220 of chemical research; great glass accumulators glittered in the light; and through a hole in the gable near the shed door, a heavy driving-belt entered the apartment and ran overhead upon steel pulleys, with clumsy activity and many ghostly and fluttering sounds. In one corner I perceived a chair resting upon crystal feet, and curiously221 wreathed with wire. To this my mother advanced with a decisive swiftness.
‘Is this it?’ she asked.
The doctor bowed in silence.
‘Asenath,’ said my mother, ‘in this sad end of my life I have found one helper. Look upon him: it is Doctor Grierson. Be not, oh my daughter, be not ungrateful to that friend!’
She sate222 upon the chair, and took in her hands the globes that terminated the arms.
‘Am I right?’ she asked, and looked upon the doctor with such a radiancy of face that I trembled for her reason. Once more the doctor bowed, but this time leaning hard against the wall. He must have touched a spring. The least shock agitated223 my mother where she sat; the least passing jar appeared to cross her features; and she sank back in the chair like one resigned to weariness. I was at her knees that moment; but her hands fell loosely in my grasp; her face, still beatified with the same touching smile, sank forward on her bosom: her spirit had for ever fled.
I do not know how long may have elapsed before, raising for a moment my tearful face, I met the doctor’s eyes. They rested upon mine with such a depth of scrutiny, pity, and interest, that even from the freshness of my sorrow, I was startled into attention.
‘Enough,’ he said, ‘to lamentation224. Your mother went to death as to a bridal, dying where her husband died. It is time, Asenath, to think of the survivors225. Follow me to the next room.’
I followed him, like a person in a dream; he made me sit by the fire, he gave me wine to drink; and then, pacing the stone floor, he thus began to address me —
‘You are now, my child, alone in the world, and under the immediate26 watch of Brigham Young. It would be your lot, in ordinary circumstances, to become the fiftieth bride of some ignoble226 elder, or by particular fortune, as fortune is counted in this land, to find favour in the eyes of the President himself. Such a fate for a girl like you were worse than death; better to die as your mother died than to sink daily deeper in the mire227 of this pit of woman’s degradation. But is escape conceivable? Your father tried; and you beheld yourself with what security his jailers acted, and how a dumb drawing on a rock was counted a sufficient sentry228 over the avenues of freedom. Where your father failed, will you be wiser or more fortunate? or are you, too, helpless in the toils229?’
I had followed his words with changing emotion, but now I believed I understood.
‘I see,’ I cried; ‘you judge me rightly. I must follow where my parents led; and oh! I am not only willing, I am eager!’
‘No,’ replied the doctor, ‘not death for you. The flawed vessel230 we may break, but not the perfect. No, your mother cherished a different hope, and so do I. I see,’ he cried, ‘the girl develop to the completed woman, the plan reach fulfilment, the promise — ay, outdone! I could not bear to arrest so lively, so comely231 a process. It was your mother’s thought,’ he added, with a change of tone, ‘that I should marry you myself.’ I fear I must have shown a perfect horror of aversion from this fate, for he made haste to quiet me. ‘Reassure yourself, Asenath,’ he resumed. ‘Old as I am, I have not forgotten the tumultuous fancies of youth. I have passed my days, indeed, in laboratories; but in all my vigils I have not forgotten the tune1 of a young pulse. Age asks with timidity to be spared intolerable pain; youth, taking fortune by the beard, demands joy like a right. These things I have not forgotten; none, rather, has more keenly felt, none more jealously considered them; I have but postponed232 them to their day. See, then: you stand without support; the only friend left to you, this old investigator233, old in cunning, young in sympathy. Answer me but one question: Are you free from the entanglement234 of what the world calls love? Do you still command your heart and purposes? or are you fallen in some bond-slavery of the eye and ear?’
I answered him in broken words; my heart, I think I must have told him, lay with my dead parents.
‘It is enough,’ he said. ‘It has been my fate to be called on often, too often, for those services of which we spoke235 to-night; none in Utah could carry them so well to a conclusion; hence there has fallen into my hands a certain share of influence which I now lay at your service, partly for the sake of my dead friends, your parents; partly for the interest I bear you in your own right. I shall send you to England, to the great city of London, there to await the bridegroom I have selected. He shall be a son of mine, a young man suitable in age and not grossly deficient236 in that quality of beauty that your years demand. Since your heart is free, you may well pledge me the sole promise that I ask in return for much expense and still more danger: to await the arrival of that bridegroom with the delicacy237 of a wife.’
I sat awhile stunned238. The doctor’s marriages, I remembered to have heard, had been unfruitful; and this added perplexity to my distress66. But I was alone, as he had said, alone in that dark land; the thought of escape, of any equal marriage, was already enough to revive in me some dawn of hope; and in what words I know not, I accepted the proposal.
He seemed more moved by my consent than I could reasonably have looked for. ‘You shall see,’ he cried; ‘you shall judge for yourself.’ And hurrying to the next room he returned with a small portrait somewhat coarsely done in oils. It showed a man in the dress of nearly forty years before, young indeed, but still recognisable to be the doctor. ‘Do you like it?’ he asked. ‘That is myself when I was young. My — my boy will be like that, like but nobler; with such health as angels might condescend239 to envy; and a man of mind, Asenath, of commanding mind. That should be a man, I think; that should be one among ten thousand. A man like that — one to combine the passions of youth with the restraint, the force, the dignity of age — one to fill all the parts and faculties240, one to be man’s epitome241 — say, will that not satisfy the needs of an ambitious girl? Say, is not that enough?’ And as he held the picture close before my eyes, his hands shook.
I told him briefly242 I would ask no better, for I was transpierced with this display of fatherly emotion; but even as I said the words, the most insolent243 revolt surged through my arteries244. I held him in horror, him, his portrait, and his son; and had there been any choice but death or a Mormon marriage, I declare before Heaven I had embraced it.
‘It is well,’ he replied, ‘and I had rightly counted on your spirit. Eat, then, for you have far to go.’ So saying, he set meat before me; and while I was endeavouring to obey, he left the room and returned with an armful of coarse raiment. ‘There,’ said he, ‘is your disguise. I leave you to your toilet.’
The clothes had probably belonged to a somewhat lubberly boy of fifteen; and they hung about me like a sack, and cruelly hampered245 my movements. But what filled me with uncontrollable shudderings, was the problem of their origin and the fate of the lad to whom they had belonged. I had scarcely effected the exchange when the doctor returned, opened a back window, helped me out into the narrow space between the house and the overhanging bluffs, and showed me a ladder of iron footholds mortised in the rock. ‘Mount,’ he said, ‘swiftly. When you are at the summit, walk, so far as you are able, in the shadow of the smoke. The smoke will bring you, sooner or later, to a canyon; follow that down, and you will find a man with two horses. Him you will implicitly246 obey. And remember, silence! That machinery247, which I now put in motion for your service, may by one word be turned against you. Go; Heaven prosper85 you!’
The ascent248 was easy. Arrived at the top of the cliff, I saw before me on the other side a vast and gradual declivity249 of stone, lying bare to the moon and the surrounding mountains. Nowhere was any vantage or concealment; and knowing how these deserts were beset250 with spies, I made haste to veil my movements under the blowing trail of smoke. Sometimes it swam high, rising on the night wind, and I had no more substantial curtain than its moon-thrown shadow; sometimes again it crawled upon the earth, and I would walk in it, no higher than to my shoulders, like some mountain fog. But, one way or another, the smoke of that ill-omened furnace protected the first steps of my escape, and led me unobserved to the canyon.
There, sure enough, I found a taciturn and sombre man beside a pair of saddle-horses; and thenceforward, all night long, we wandered in silence by the most occult and dangerous paths among the mountains. A little before the dayspring we took refuge in a wet and gusty251 cavern252 at the bottom of a gorge253; lay there all day concealed; and the next night, before the glow had faded out of the west, resumed our wanderings. About noon we stopped again, in a lawn upon a little river, where was a screen of bushes; and here my guide, handing me a bundle from his pack, bade me change my dress once more. The bundle contained clothing of my own, taken from our house, with such necessaries as a comb and soap. I made my toilet by the mirror of a quiet pool; and as I was so doing, and smiling with some complacency to see myself restored to my own image, the mountains rang with a scream of far more than human piercingness; and while I still stood astonished, there sprang up and swiftly increased a storm of the most awful and earth-rending sounds. Shall I own to you, that I fell upon my face and shrieked254? And yet this was but the overland train winding among the near mountains: the very means of my salvation255: the strong wings that were to carry me from Utah!
When I was dressed, the guide gave me a bag, which contained, he said, both money and papers; and telling me that I was already over the borders in the territory of Wyoming, bade me follow the stream until I reached the railway station, half a mile below. ‘Here,’ he added, ‘is your ticket as far as Council Bluffs. The East express will pass in a few hours.’ With that, he took both horses, and, without further words or any salutation, rode off by the way that we had come.
Three hours afterwards, I was seated on the end platform of the train as it swept eastward256 through the gorges257 and thundered in tunnels of the mountain. The change of scene, the sense of escape, the still throbbing terror of pursuit — above all, the astounding258 magic of my new conveyance259, kept me from any logical or melancholy thought. I had gone to the doctor’s house two nights before prepared to die, prepared for worse than death; what had passed, terrible although it was, looked almost bright compared to my anticipations260; and it was not till I had slept a full night in the flying palace car, that I awoke to the sense of my irreparable loss and to some reasonable alarm about the future. In this mood, I examined the contents of the bag. It was well supplied with gold; it contained tickets and complete directions for my journey as far as Liverpool, and a long letter from the doctor, supplying me with a fictitious261 name and story, recommending the most guarded silence, and bidding me to await faithfully the coming of his son. All then had been arranged beforehand: he had counted upon my consent, and what was tenfold worse, upon my mother’s voluntary death. My horror of my only friend, my aversion for this son who was to marry me, my revolt against the whole current and conditions of my life, were now complete. I was sitting stupefied by my distress and helplessness, when, to my joy, a very pleasant lady offered me her conversation. I clutched at the relief; and I was soon glibly262 telling her the story in the doctor’s letter: how I was a Miss Gould, of Nevada City, going to England to an uncle, what money I had, what family, my age, and so forth, until I had exhausted263 my instructions, and, as the lady still continued to ply58 me with questions, began to embroider119 on my own account. This soon carried one of my inexperience beyond her depth; and I had already remarked a shadow on the lady’s face, when a gentleman drew near and very civilly addressed me.
‘Miss Gould, I believe?’ said he; and then, excusing himself to the lady by the authority of my guardian264, drew me to the fore2 platform of the Pullman car. ‘Miss Gould,’ he said in my ear, ‘is it possible that you suppose yourself in safety? Let me completely undeceive you. One more such indiscretion and you return to Utah. And, in the meanwhile, if this woman should again address you, you are to reply with these words: “Madam, I do not like you, and I will be obliged if you will suffer me to choose my own associates.”’
Alas265, I had to do as I was bid; this lady, to whom I already felt myself drawn with the strongest cords of sympathy, I dismissed with insult; and thenceforward, through all that day, I sat in silence, gazing on the bare plains and swallowing my tears. Let that suffice: it was the pattern of my journey. Whether on the train, at the hotels, or on board the ocean steamer, I never exchanged a friendly word with any fellow-traveller but I was certain to be interrupted. In every place, on every side, the most unlikely persons, man or woman, rich or poor, became protectors to forward me upon my journey, or spies to observe and regulate my conduct. Thus I crossed the States, thus passed the ocean, the Mormon Eye still following my movements; and when at length a cab had set me down before that London lodging-house from which you saw me flee this morning, I had already ceased to struggle and ceased to hope.
The landlady266, like every one else through all that journey, was expecting my arrival. A fire was lighted in my room, which looked upon the garden; there were books on the table, clothes in the drawers; and there (I had almost said with contentment, and certainly with resignation) I saw month follow month over my head. At times my landlady took me for a walk or an excursion, but she would never suffer me to leave the house alone; and I, seeing that she also lived under the shadow of that widespread Mormon terror, felt too much pity to resist. To the child born on Mormon soil, as to the man who accepts the engagements of a secret order, no escape is possible; so I had clearly read, and I was thankful even for this respite267. Meanwhile, I tried honestly to prepare my mind for my approaching nuptials268. The day drew near when my bridegroom was to visit me, and gratitude269 and fear alike obliged me to consent. A son of Doctor Grierson’s, be he what he pleased, must still be young, and it was even probable he should be handsome; on more than that, I felt I dared not reckon; and in moulding my mind towards consent I dwelt the more carefully on these physical attractions which I felt I might expect, and averted270 my eyes from moral or intellectual considerations. We have a great power upon our spirits; and as time passed I worked myself into a frame of acquiescence271, nay, and I began to grow impatient for the hour. At night sleep forsook272 me; I sat all day by the fire, absorbed in dreams, conjuring273 up the features of my husband, and anticipating in fancy the touch of his hand and the sound of his voice. In the dead level and solitude of my existence, this was the one eastern window and the one door of hope. At last, I had so cultivated and prepared my will, that I began to be besieged274 with fears upon the other side. How if it was I that did not please? How if this unseen lover should turn from me with disaffection? And now I spent hours before the glass, studying and judging my attractions, and was never weary of changing my dress or ordering my hair.
When the day came I was long about my toilet; but at last, with a sort of hopeful desperation, I had to own that I could do no more, and must now stand or fall by nature. My occupation ended, I fell a prey275 to the most sickening impatience276, mingled277 with alarms; giving ear to the swelling278 rumour279 of the streets, and at each change of sound or silence, starting, shrinking, and colouring to the brow. Love is not to be prepared, I know, without some knowledge of the object; and yet, when the cab at last rattled280 to the door and I heard my visitor mount the stairs, such was the tumult139 of hopes in my poor bosom that love itself might have been proud to own their parentage. The door opened, and it was Doctor Grierson that appeared. I believe I must have screamed aloud, and I know, at least, that I fell fainting to the floor.
When I came to myself he was standing281 over me, counting my pulse. ‘I have startled you,’ he said. ‘A difficulty unforeseen — the impossibility of obtaining a certain drug in its full purity — has forced me to resort to London unprepared. I regret that I should have shown myself once more without those poor attractions which are much, perhaps, to you, but to me are no more considerable than rain that falls into the sea. Youth is but a state, as passing as that syncope from which you are but just awakened282, and, if there be truth in science, as easy to recall; for I find, Asenath, that I must now take you for my confidant. Since my first years, I have devoted every hour and act of life to one ambitious task; and the time of my success is at hand. In these new countries, where I was so long content to stay, I collected indispensable ingredients; I have fortified283 myself on every side from the possibility of error; what was a dream now takes the substance of reality; and when I offered you a son of mine I did so in a figure. That son — that husband, Asenath, is myself — not as you now behold179 me, but restored to the first energy of youth. You think me mad? It is the customary attitude of ignorance. I will not argue; I will leave facts to speak. When you behold me purified, invigorated, renewed, restamped in the original image — when you recognise in me (what I shall be) the first perfect expression of the powers of mankind — I shall be able to laugh with a better grace at your passing and natural incredulity. To what can you aspire284 — fame, riches, power, the charm of youth, the dear-bought wisdom of age — that I shall not be able to afford you in perfection? Do not deceive yourself. I already excel you in every human gift but one: when that gift also has been restored to me you will recognise your master.’
Hereupon, consulting his watch, he told me he must now leave me to myself; and bidding me consult reason, and not girlish fancies, he withdrew. I had not the courage to move; the night fell and found me still where he had laid me during my faint, my face buried in my hands, my soul drowned in the darkest apprehensions285. Late in the evening he returned, carrying a candle, and, with a certain irritable286 tremor287, bade me rise and sup. ‘Is it possible,’ he added, ‘that I have been deceived in your courage? A cowardly girl is no fit mate for me.’
I flung myself before him on my knees, and with floods of tears besought him to release me from this engagement, assuring him that my cowardice288 was abject289, and that in every point of intellect and character I was his hopeless and derisible inferior.
‘Why, certainly,’ he replied. ‘I know you better than yourself; and I am well enough acquainted with human nature to understand this scene. It is addressed to me,’ he added with a smile, ‘in my character of the still untransformed. But do not alarm yourself about the future. Let me but attain290 my end, and not you only, Asenath, but every woman on the face of the earth becomes my willing slave.’
Thereupon he obliged me to rise and eat; sat down with me to table; helped and entertained me with the attentions of a fashionable host; and it was not till a late hour, that, bidding me courteously291 good-night, he once more left me alone to my misery.
In all this talk of an elixir292 and the restoration of his youth, I scarce knew from which hypothesis I should the more eagerly recoil. If his hopes reposed293 on any base of fact, if indeed, by some abhorrent294 miracle, he should discard his age, death were my only refuge from that most unnatural295, that most ungodly union. If, on the other hand, these dreams were merely lunatic, the madness of a life waxed suddenly acute, my pity would become a load almost as heavy to bear as my revolt against the marriage. So passed the night, in alternations of rebellion and despair, of hate and pity; and with the next morning I was only to comprehend more fully168 my enslaved position. For though he appeared with a very tranquil countenance, he had no sooner observed the marks of grief upon my brow than an answering darkness gathered on his own. ‘Asenath.’ he said, ‘you owe me much already; with one finger I still hold you suspended over death; my life is full of labour and anxiety; and I choose,’ said he, with a remarkable296 accent of command, ‘that you shall greet me with a pleasant face.’ He never needed to repeat the recommendation; from that day forward I was always ready to receive him with apparent cheerfulness; and he rewarded me with a good deal of his company, and almost more than I could bear of his confidence. He had set up a laboratory in the back part of the house, where he toiled297 day and night at his elixir, and he would come thence to visit me in my parlour: now with passing humours of discouragement; now, and far more often, radiant with hope. It was impossible to see so much of him, and not to recognise that the sands of his life were running low; and yet all the time he would be laying out vast fields of future, and planning, with all the confidence of youth, the most unbounded schemes of pleasure and ambition. How I replied I know not; but I found a voice and words to answer, even while I wept and raged to hear him.
A week ago the doctor entered my room with the marks of great exhilaration contending with pitiful bodily weakness. ‘Asenath,’ said he, ‘I have now obtained the last ingredient. In one week from now the perilous298 moment of the last projection will draw nigh. You have once before assisted, although unconsciously, at the failure of a similar experiment. It was the elixir which so terribly exploded one night when you were passing my house; and it is idle to deny that the conduct of so delicate a process, among the million jars and trepidations of so great a city, presents a certain element of danger. From this point of view, I cannot but regret the perfect stillness of my house among the deserts; but, on the other hand, I have succeeded in proving that the singularly unstable299 equilibrium300 of the elixir, at the moment of projection, is due rather to the impurity301 than to the nature of the ingredients; and as all are now of an equal and exquisite302 nicety, I have little fear for the result. In a week then from to-day, my dear Asenath, this period of trial will be ended.’ And he smiled upon me in a manner unusually paternal303.
I smiled back with my lips, but at my heart there raged the blackest and most unbridled terror. What if he failed? And oh, tenfold worse! what if he succeeded? What detested304 and unnatural changeling would appear before me to claim my hand? And could there, I asked myself with a dreadful sinking, be any truth in his boasts of an assured victory over my reluctance305? I knew him, indeed, to be masterful, to lead my life at a sign. Suppose, then, this experiment to succeed; suppose him to return to me, hideously306 restored, like a vampire307 in a legend; and suppose that, by some devilish fascination308 . . . My head turned; all former fears deserted me: and I felt I could embrace the worst in preference to this.
My mind was instantly made up. The doctor’s presence in London was justified309 by the affairs of the Mormon polity. Often, in our conversation, he would gloat over the details of that great organisation310, which he feared even while yet he wielded311 it; and would remind me, that even in the humming labyrinth312 of London, we were still visible to that unsleeping eye in Utah. His visitors, indeed, who were of every sort, from the missionary to the destroying angel, and seemed to belong to every rank of life, had, up to that moment, filled me with unmixed repulsion and alarm. I knew that if my secret were to reach the ear of any leader my fate were sealed beyond redemption; and yet in my present pass of horror and despair, it was to these very men that I turned for help. I waylaid313 upon the stair one of the Mormon missionaries314, a man of a low class, but not inaccessible315 to pity; told him I scarce remember what elaborate fable316 to explain my application; and by his intermediacy entered into correspondence with my father’s family. They recognised my claim for help, and on this very day I was to begin my escape.
Last night I sat up fully dressed, awaiting the result of the doctor’s labours, and prepared against the worst. The nights at this season and in this northern latitude317 are short; and I had soon the company of the returning daylight. The silence in and around the house was only broken by the movements of the doctor in the laboratory; to these I listened, watch in hand, awaiting the hour of my escape, and yet consumed by anxiety about the strange experiment that was going forward overhead. Indeed, now that I was conscious of some protection for myself, my sympathies had turned more directly to the doctor’s side; I caught myself even praying for his success; and when some hours ago a low, peculiar cry reached my ears from the laboratory, I could no longer control my impatience, but mounted the stairs and opened the door.
The doctor was standing in the middle of the room; in his hand a large, round-bellied, crystal flask, some three parts full of a bright amber-coloured liquid; on his face a rapture318 of gratitude and joy unspeakable. As he saw me he raised the flask at arm’s length. ‘Victory!’ he cried. ‘Victory, Asenath!’ And then — whether the flask escaped his trembling fingers, or whether the explosion were spontaneous, I cannot tell — enough that we were thrown, I against the door-post, the doctor into the corner of the room; enough that we were shaken to the soul by the same explosion that must have startled you upon the street; and that, in the brief space of an indistinguishable instant, there remained nothing of the labours of the doctor’s lifetime but a few shards319 of broken crystal and those voluminous and ill-smelling vapours that pursued me in my flight.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
fore
|
|
| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
nominal
|
|
| adj.名义上的；(金额、租金)微不足道的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
caravan
|
|
| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
caravans
|
|
| （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） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
dire
|
|
| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
moor
|
|
| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
sable
|
|
| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
scatter
|
|
| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
boulders
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
subverted
|
|
| v.颠覆，破坏（政治制度、宗教信仰等）( subvert的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某人）道德败坏或不忠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
quarry
|
|
| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
watersheds
|
|
| n.分水岭( watershed的名词复数 )；分水线；转折点；流域 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
picketed
|
|
| 用尖桩围住（picket的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
reigned
|
|
| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
pathos
|
|
| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
winding
|
|
| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
swelled
|
|
| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
plumbed
|
|
| v.经历( plumb的过去式和过去分词 )；探究；用铅垂线校正；用铅锤测量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
funnel
|
|
| n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
tempestuously
|
|
| adv.剧烈地，暴风雨似地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
den
|
|
| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
margin
|
|
| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
prone
|
|
| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
emaciation
|
|
| n.消瘦，憔悴，衰弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
propped
|
|
| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
outskirts
|
|
| n.郊外，郊区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
sleepers
|
|
| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
miscreant
|
|
| n.恶棍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
feigned
|
|
| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
scrutiny
|
|
| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
jaws
|
|
| n.口部；嘴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
nourishment
|
|
| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
stupor
|
|
| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
incensed
|
|
| 盛怒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
ledge
|
|
| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
ceding
|
|
| v.让给，割让，放弃( cede的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
canyon
|
|
| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
tottering
|
|
| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
riveted
|
|
| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
hubbub
|
|
| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
beckoned
|
|
| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
flask
|
|
| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
heeding
|
|
| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
bustle
|
|
| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
ply
|
|
| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
eloquent
|
|
| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
degradation
|
|
| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
missionary
|
|
| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
mused
|
|
| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
distresses
|
|
| n.悲痛( distress的名词复数 )；痛苦；贫困；危险 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
paupers
|
|
| n.穷人( pauper的名词复数 )；贫民；贫穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
extremities
|
|
| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
fissures
|
|
| n.狭长裂缝或裂隙( fissure的名词复数 )；裂伤；分歧；分裂v.裂开( fissure的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
moss
|
|
| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
edible
|
|
| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
procuring
|
|
| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
calamities
|
|
| n.灾祸，灾难( calamity的名词复数 )；不幸之事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
maidenhood
|
|
| n. 处女性, 处女时代 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
77
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
untoward
|
|
| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
attachment
|
|
| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
renounce
|
|
| v.放弃；拒绝承认，宣布与…断绝关系 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
abjure
|
|
| v.发誓放弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
doctrine
|
|
| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
prosper
|
|
| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
prospered
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
pious
|
|
| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
tyrant
|
|
| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
bishop
|
|
| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
pry
|
|
| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
lash
|
|
| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
stunted
|
|
| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
bluffs
|
|
| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
bluff
|
|
| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
halfway
|
|
| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
waggon
|
|
| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
throb
|
|
| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
smothered
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
rustle
|
|
| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
amber
|
|
| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
ruby
|
|
| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
rumbling
|
|
| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
rein
|
|
| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
ranch
|
|
| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
groves
|
|
| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
tranquil
|
|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
sylvan
|
|
| adj.森林的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
divan
|
|
| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
embroidery
|
|
| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
embroider
|
|
| v.刺绣于(布)上；给…添枝加叶，润饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
enthralled
|
|
| 迷住，吸引住( enthrall的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到非常愉快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
privately
|
|
| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
concealment
|
|
| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
disquieting
|
|
| adj.令人不安的，令人不平静的v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
piety
|
|
| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
conjured
|
|
| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
naught
|
|
| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
imminent
|
|
| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
mules
|
|
| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
prudence
|
|
| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
warriors
|
|
| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
perils
|
|
| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
plantations
|
|
| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
encumbered
|
|
| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
tumult
|
|
| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
torrent
|
|
| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
cascade
|
|
| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
impending
|
|
| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
charred
|
|
| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
emblem
|
|
| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
retraced
|
|
| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
reprieve
|
|
| n.暂缓执行（死刑）；v.缓期执行；给…带来缓解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
reassuring
|
|
| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
massacre
|
|
| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
pretext
|
|
| n.借口，托词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
besought
|
|
| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
pony
|
|
| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
projection
|
|
| n.发射，计划，突出部分 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
sluggish
|
|
| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
copiously
|
|
| adv.丰富地，充裕地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
glides
|
|
| n.滑行( glide的名词复数 )；滑音；音渡；过渡音v.滑动( glide的第三人称单数 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
orphan
|
|
| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
hoofs
|
|
| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
saluted
|
|
| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
fortitude
|
|
| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
superfluous
|
|
| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
wrung
|
|
| 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） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
loathing
|
|
| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
fugitive
|
|
| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
beholds
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的第三人称单数 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
raving
|
|
| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
immured
|
|
| v.禁闭，监禁( immure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
alleviate
|
|
| v.减轻，缓和，缓解(痛苦等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
concessions
|
|
| n.（尤指由政府或雇主给予的）特许权( concession的名词复数 )；承认；减价；（在某地的）特许经营权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
reverts
|
|
| 恢复( revert的第三人称单数 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
odious
|
|
| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
recoil
|
|
| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
arduous
|
|
| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
apprehend
|
|
| vt.理解，领悟，逮捕，拘捕，忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
shuddering
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
beseeching
|
|
| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
conversing
|
|
| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
trot
|
|
| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
vomited
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
industrious
|
|
| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
inhuman
|
|
| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
evasion
|
|
| n.逃避，偷漏(税) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
acquit
|
|
| vt.宣判无罪；(oneself)使(自己)表现出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
beholding
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
sprouted
|
|
| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
adornment
|
|
| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
puffs
|
|
| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
throbbing
|
|
| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
recurrence
|
|
| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
flicker
|
|
| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
incessant
|
|
| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
reverberation
|
|
| 反响； 回响； 反射； 反射物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
glazed
|
|
| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
implements
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
sate
|
|
| v.使充分满足 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
lamentation
|
|
| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
survivors
|
|
| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
ignoble
|
|
| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
mire
|
|
| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
sentry
|
|
| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
toils
|
|
| 网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
comely
|
|
| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
postponed
|
|
| 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） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
investigator
|
|
| n.研究者，调查者，审查者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
entanglement
|
|
| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
deficient
|
|
| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
stunned
|
|
| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
condescend
|
|
| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
faculties
|
|
| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
epitome
|
|
| n.典型，梗概 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
242
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
243
insolent
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
244
arteries
|
|
| n.动脉( artery的名词复数 )；干线，要道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
245
hampered
|
|
| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
246
implicitly
|
|
| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
247
machinery
|
|
| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
248
ascent
|
|
| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
249
declivity
|
|
| n.下坡，倾斜面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
250
beset
|
|
| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
251
gusty
|
|
| adj.起大风的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
252
cavern
|
|
| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
253
gorge
|
|
| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
254
shrieked
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
255
salvation
|
|
| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
256
eastward
|
|
| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
257
gorges
|
|
| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
258
astounding
|
|
| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
259
conveyance
|
|
| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
260
anticipations
|
|
| 预期( anticipation的名词复数 )； 预测； （信托财产收益的）预支； 预期的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
261
fictitious
|
|
| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
262
glibly
|
|
| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
263
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
264
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
265
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
266
landlady
|
|
| n.女房东，女地主 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
267
respite
|
|
| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
268
nuptials
|
|
| n.婚礼；婚礼( nuptial的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
269
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
270
averted
|
|
| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
271
acquiescence
|
|
| n.默许；顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
272
forsook
|
|
| forsake的过去式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
273
conjuring
|
|
| n.魔术 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
274
besieged
|
|
| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
275
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
276
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
277
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
278
swelling
|
|
| n.肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
279
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
280
rattled
|
|
| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
281
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
282
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
283
fortified
|
|
| adj. 加强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
284
aspire
|
|
| vi.(to，after)渴望，追求，有志于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
285
apprehensions
|
|
| 疑惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
286
irritable
|
|
| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
287
tremor
|
|
| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
288
cowardice
|
|
| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
289
abject
|
|
| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
290
attain
|
|
| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
291
courteously
|
|
| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
292
elixir
|
|
| n.长生不老药，万能药 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
293
reposed
|
|
| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
294
abhorrent
|
|
| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
295
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
296
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
297
toiled
|
|
| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
298
perilous
|
|
| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
299
unstable
|
|
| adj.不稳定的，易变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
300
equilibrium
|
|
| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
301
impurity
|
|
| n.不洁，不纯，杂质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
302
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
303
paternal
|
|
| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
304
detested
|
|
| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
305
reluctance
|
|
| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
306
hideously
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
307
vampire
|
|
| n.吸血鬼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
308
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
309
justified
|
|
| a.正当的，有理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
310
organisation
|
|
| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
311
wielded
|
|
| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的过去式和过去分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
312
labyrinth
|
|
| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
313
waylaid
|
|
| v.拦截，拦路( waylay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
314
missionaries
|
|
| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
315
inaccessible
|
|
| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
316
fable
|
|
| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
317
latitude
|
|
| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
318
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
319
shards
|
|
| n.（玻璃、金属或其他硬物的）尖利的碎片( shard的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |