Throughout the festivities which followed each other, day by day, my Lady Dunstanwolde was queen of every revel2. 'Twas she who led the adventurous3 party who visited the gipsy encampment in the glen by moonlight, and so won the heart of the old gipsy queen that she took her to her tent and instructed her in the mysteries of spells and potions. She walked among them as though she had been bred and born one of their tribe, and came forth4 from one tent carrying in her arms a brown infant, and showed it to the company, laughing like a girl and making pretty sounds at the child when it stared at her with great black eyes like her own, and shook at it all her rings, which she stripped from her fingers, holding them in the closed palm of her hand to make a rattle5 of. She stirred the stew6 hanging to cook over the camp-fire, and begged a plate of it for each of the company, and ate her own with such gay appetite as recalled to Osmonde the day he had watched her on the moor7; and the gipsy women stood by showing their white teeth in their pleasure, and the gipsy men hung about with black shining eyes fixed8 on her in stealthy admiration9. She stood by the fire in the light of the flame, having fantastically wound a scarlet10 scarf about her head, and 'twas as though she might have been a gipsy queen herself.
"And indeed," she said, as they rode home, "I have often enough thought I should like to be one of them; and when I was a child, and was in a passion, more than once planned to stain my face and run away to the nearest camp I could come upon. Indeed, I think I was always a rebel and loved wild, lawless ways."
When she said it my lord Duke, who was riding near, looked straight before him, with face which had belied11 his laugh, had any seen it. He was thinking that he could well imagine what a life a man might lead with her, wandering about the thick green woods and white roads and purple moors12, tramping, side by side, in the sweet wind and bright sunshine, and even the soft falling rain, each owner of a splendid body which defied the weather and laughed at fatigue13. To carry their simple meal with them and stop to eat it joyously14 together under a hedge, to lie under the shade of a broad branched tree to rest when the sun was hot and hear the skylarks singing in the blue sky, and then at night-time to sit at the door of a tent and watch the stars and tell each other fanciful stories of them, while the red camp-fire danced and glowed in the dark. Of no other woman could he have had such a wild fancy—the others were too frail15 and delicate to be a man's comrades out of doors; but she, who stood so straight and strong, who moved like a young deer, who could swing along across the moors for a day without fatigue, who had the eye of a hawk16 and a spirit so gay and untiring—a man might range the world with her and know joy every moment. 'Twas ordained17 that all she did or said should seem a call to him and should bring visions to him, and there was many an hour when he thanked Heaven she seemed so free from fault, since if she had had one he could not have seen it, or if he had seen, might have loved it for her sake. But she had none, it seemed, and despite all her strange past was surely more noble than any other woman. She was so true—he told himself—so loyal and so high in her honour of the old man who loved her. Had she even been innocently light in her bearing among the men who flocked about her, she might have given her lord many a bitter hour, and seemed regardless of his dignity; but she could rule and restrain all, howsoever near they were to the brink18 of folly19. As for himself, Osmonde thought, all his days he had striven to be master of himself, and felt he must remain so or die; but he could have worshipped her upon his knees in gratitude20 that no woman's vanity tempted21 her to use her powers and loveliness to shake him in his hard won calmness and lure23 him to her feet. He was but man and human, and vaunted himself upon being no more.
There had been for some months much talk in town of the rapid downfall of the whilom favourite of Fashion, Sir John Oxon. But a few weeks before the coming happiness of the old Earl of Dunstanwolde was made known to the world, there had been a flurry of gossip over a rumour24 that Sir John, whose fortunes were in a precarious25 condition, was about to retrieve26 them by a rich marriage. A certain Mistress Isabel Beaton, a young Scotch27 lady, had been for a year counted the greatest fortune in the market, and besieged28 by every spendthrift or money-seeker the town knew. Not only was she heiress to fine estates in Scotland, but to wealth-yielding sugar plantations29 in the West Indies. She was but twenty and had some good looks and an amiable30 temper, though with her fortune, had she been ugly as Hecate, she would have had more suitors than she could manage with ease. But she was not easily pleased, or of a susceptible31 nature, and 'twas known she had refused suitor after suitor, among them men of quality and rank, the elegant and decorous Viscount Wilford, among others, having knelt at her feet, and—having proffered32 her the boon33 of his lofty manner and high accomplishments34 —having been obliged to rise a discarded man, to his amazement35 and discomfort36. The world she lived in was of the better and more respectable order, and Jack37 Oxon had seen little of it, finding it not gay and loose enough for his tastes, but suddenly, for reasons best known to himself and to his anxious mother, he began to appear at its decorous feasts. 'Twas said of him he "had a way" with women and could make them believe anything until they found him out, either through lucky chance or because he had done with them. He could act the part of tender, honest worshipper, of engaging penitent38, of impassioned and romantic lover until a woman old and wise enough to be his mother might be entrapped39 by him, aided as he was by his beauty, his large blue eyes, his merry wit, and the sweetest voice in the world. So it seemed that Mistress Beaton, who was young and had lived among better men, took him for one and found her fancy touched by him. His finest allurements40 he used, verses he writ41, songs he made and sang, poetic42 homilies on disinterested43 passion he preached, while the world looked on and his boon companions laid wagers44. At last those who had wagered45 on him won their money, those who had laid against him lost, for 'twas made known publicly that he had won the young lady's heart, and her hand and fortune were to be given to him.
This had happened but a week or two before he had appeared at the ball which celebrated46 young Colin's coming of age, and also by chance the announcement of the fine match to be made of Mistress Clorinda Wildairs. 'Twas but like him, those who knew him said, that though he himself was on the point of making a marriage, he should burn with fury and jealous rage, because the beauty he had dangled47 about had found a husband and a fortune. Some said he had loved Mistress Clorinda with such passion that he would have wed1 her penniless if she would have taken him, others were sure he would have married no woman without fortune, whatsoever48 his love for her, and that he had but laid dishonest siege to Mistress Clo and been played with and flouted49 by her. But howsoever this might have been, he watched her that night, black with rage, and went back to town in an evil temper. Perhaps 'twas this temper undid50 him, and being in such mood he showed the cloven foot, for two weeks later all knew the match was broken off, Mistress Beaton went back to her estates in Scotland, his creditors51 descended52 upon him in hordes53, such of his properties as could be seized were sold, and in a month his poor, distraught mother died of a fever brought on by her disappointment and shame.
Another story was told in solution of the sudden breaking off the match, and 'twas an ugly one and much believed.
A wild young cousin of the lady's, one given to all the adventures of a man about town, had gone to Tyburn, as was much the elegant fashion, to see a hanging. The victim was a girl of sixteen, to suffer for the murder of her infant, and as she went to the gallows54 she screamed aloud in frenzy55 the name of the child's father. The young scapegrace looking on, 'twas said, turned pale on hearing her and went into the crowd, asking questions. Two hours later he appeared at his cousin's house and, calling for her guardian56, held excited speech with him.
"Mistress Isabel fell like a stone after ten minutes' talk with them," 'twas told, "and looked like one when she got into her travelling-coach to drive away next day. Sir John and his mother had both raged and wept at her door to be let in, but she would see or speak to neither of them."
From that time it seemed that all was over for Sir John. He was far worse than poor and in debt, he was out of fashion, and for a man like himself this meant not only humiliation57, but impotent rage. Ladies no longer ogled58 him and commanded the stopping of their chairs that they might call him to them with coquettish reproaches that he neither came to their assemblies nor bowed and waved hands to them as he sate59 on the stage at the playhouse; beaux no longer joined him in the coffee-house or on the Mall to ask his opinion of this new beauty or that, and admire the cut of his coat, or the lace on his steenkirk; the new beauty's successes would not be advanced by his opinion—a man whom tradespeople dun from morn till night has few additions to his wardrobe and wears few novelties in lace. Profligacy60 and defiance61 of all rules of healthful living had marred62 his beauty and degraded his youth; his gay wit and spirit had deserted63 him and left him suspicious and bitter. He had been forced to put down his equipages and change his fashionable lodgings64 for cheaper ones; when he lounged in the park his old acquaintances failed to see him; when he gambled he lost. Downhill he was going, and there was naught65 to stop him. For one man in England he had, even in his most flourishing days, cherished a distaste—the man who was five inches taller than himself, who was incomparably handsomer, and whose rank was such, that to approach him as an equal would have savoured of presumption66. This man, who was indeed my Lord Duke of Osmonde, had irked him from the first, and all the more when he began to realise that for some reason, howsoever often they chanced to be in the same place, it invariably happened that they did not come in contact with each other, Sir John on no occasion being presented to my lord Duke, his Grace on no occasion seeming to observe his presence near him. At the outset this appeared mere67 accident, but after a few such encounters ending in nothing, Sir John began to guess that 'twas the result of more than mere chancing, and in time to mark that, though he was not clumsily avoided, or in such manner as would leave any room for complaint, my lord Duke forebore to enter into any conversation in which he took part, or to approach any quarter where he was stationed. Once Sir John had even tried the experiment of addressing an acquaintance who stood near his Grace, meaning to lead up to a meeting, but though the Duke did not move from the place where he stood, in a few moments he had, with ease and naturalness, gathered about him a circle which 'twould have been difficult indeed to enter. Sir John went away livid, and hated and sneered68 at him from that hour, all the more bitterly, because no hatred70 was a weapon against him, no sneer69 could do more than glance from him, leaving no scratch. 'Twas plain enough, the gossips said, that Sir John's passion for her ladyship of Dunstanwolde had not been a dead thing when he paid his court to the heiress; if for a little space he had smothered71 it from necessity's sake, it had begun to glow again as soon as he had been left a free man, and when my lady came to town and Court, surrounded by the halo of rank and wealth and beauty, the glow had become a flame he could not hide, for 'twas burning in his eyes and his every look spoke72 of it as if with bitterness.
It scarcely seemed a flame of love; 'twas to be seen so often when he looked fierce and resentful.
"'Tis more than half envy of her," said one wise lady, who had passed through a long life of varied73 experiences. "'Tis more hate than love. His star having set, it galls74 him that hers so rises. And as for her, she scarce will deign75 to see him."
And this was very true, for she had a way of passing him by as if he did not live. And none but herself knew that sometimes, when he stood near, he spoke low to her words she disdained76 to answer. There were many bitter things she held in mind which were secret from all others upon earth, she thought, but from himself and her who had been Clo Wildairs in days gone by, when, as it now seemed to her, she had been another woman living in another world. There were things she understood which the world did not, and she understood full well the meaning of his presence when she, with the ducal party, came face to face with him at the great ball given in the county town when the guests were gathered at Camylott.
The night was a festal one for the county, the ball being given in honour of a great party movement, his Grace and his visitors driving from Camylott to add to the brilliance77 of the festivities. The Mayor and his party received them with ceremony, the smaller gentry78, who had come attired79 in their richest, gathered in groups gazing, half admiring, half envious80 of the more stately splendour of the Court mantua-makers and jewellers. The officers from the garrison81 assumed a martial82 air of ease as the cortége advanced up the ballroom83, and every man's eyes were drawn84 towards one tall goddess with a shining circlet set on raven-black braids of hair coiled high, yet twisted tight, as if their length and thickness could only be massed close enough by deftest85 skill.
"'Tis said 'tis near six feet long," whispered one matron to another; "and a rake at Court wagered he would show a lock of it in town some day, but he came back without it."
Sir John Oxon had come with a young officer, and stood near him as the ducal party approached. The Countess of Dunstanwolde was on his Grace's arm, and Sir John made a step forward. Her ladyship turned her eyes slowly, attracted by the movement of a figure so near her; she did not start nor smile, but let her glance rest quiet on his face and curtsied calmly; my lord Duke bowed low with courtly gravity, and they passed on.
When the ball was at an end, and the party set out on its return to Camylott, the Duke did not set out with the rest, he being at the last moment unexpectedly detained. This he explained with courtly excuses, saying that he would not be long held, and would mount and follow in an hour.
He stood upon the threshold to watch the last chariot leave the courtyard, and then he made his way to a certain supper-room, where a lingering party of officers and guests were drinking. These being of the young and riotous86 sort, there was much loud talk and laughter and toasting of ladies, sometimes far from respectfully, and Sir John Oxon, who was flushed with wine, was the central figure, and toasted her ladyship of Dunstanwolde with an impudent87 air.
"'Tis not my lady I drink to," he cried, "but Clo Wildairs—Clo astride a hunter and with her black hair looped under her hat. Clo! Clo!" And with a shout the company drank to the toast.
"There was a lock of that black hair clipt from her head once when she knew it not," Sir John cried next. "'Twas lost, by God, but 'twill be found again. Drink to its finding."
Then my lord Duke stepped forward and, passing the open door, went through the house and out beyond the entrance of the court and waited in a place where any who came forth must pass. He had but gone within to see that Sir John had not yet taken his departure.
There be deeps in the nature of human beings which in some are never stirred, possibilities of heroism88, savagery89, passion, or crime, and when the hour comes which searches these far secret caverns91 and brings their best and worst to light, strange things may be seen. On the night, at Dunstanwolde, when he had fought his battle alone, my lord Duke had realised the upheaval92 in his being of frenzies93 and lawlessness which were strange indeed to him, and which he had afterwards pondered deeply upon, tracing the germs of them to men whose blood had come down to him through centuries, and who had been untamed, ruthless savages94 in the days when a man carried his life in his hand and staked it recklessly for any fury or desire.
Now as he stood and waited, his face was white except that on one cheek was a spot almost like a scarlet stain of blood; his eyes seemed changed to blue-black, and in each there was a light which flickered95 like a point of flame and made him seem not himself, but some new relentless96 being, for far deeps of him had been shaken and searched once more.
"I wait here like a brigand," he said to himself with a harsh laugh, "or a highwayman—but he shall not pass."
Then Sir John crossed the courtyard and came forward humming, and his Grace of Osmonde advanced and met him.
"Sir John Oxon," he said, and stood still and made a grave bow.
John Oxon started and then stood still also, staring at him, his face flushed and malignant97. His Grace of Osmonde was it who had gazed above his head throughout the evening, when all the country world might see!
"Hitherto there has been no need that either should address the other," answers my lord Duke in a steady voice. "At this moment the necessity arises. Within there"—with a gesture—"I heard you use a lady's name impudently99. Earlier in the evening I also chanced to hear you so use it; I was in the ball-room. So I remained behind and waited to have speech with you. Do not speak it again in like manner."
"Must I not!" said Sir John, his blue eyes glaring. "On Clo Wildairs's name was set no embargo100, God knows. Is there a reason why a man should be squeamish of a sudden over my Lady Dunstanwolde's? 'Tis but the difference of a title and an old husband."
"Let him use it, by God!" cried Sir John, and insensate with rage he laid his hand upon his own as if he would draw it.
"He will use it and is prepared to do so, or he would not be here," the Duke answered. "We are not two Mohocks brawling102 in the streets, but two gentlemen, one of whom must give a lesson to the other. Would you have witnesses?"
"Curse it, I care for none!" flamed Sir John. "Let the best man give his lesson now. 'Tis not this night alone I would be even for."
The Duke measured him from head to foot, in every inch of sinew.
"I am the better man," he said; "I tell you beforehand."
"Prove it," he cried. "Prove it. Now is your time."
"There is open moor a short distance away," says his Grace. "Shall we go there?"
So they set out, walking side by side, neither speaking a word. The night was still and splendid, and just upon its turn; the rich dark-blue of the Heavens was still hung with the spangles of the stars, but soon they would begin to dim, and the deepness of the blue to pale for dawn. A scented105 freshness was in the air, and was just stirring with that light faint wind which so often first foretells106 the coming of the morning. When, in but a few minutes, the two men stood stript of their upper garments to their shirts, the open purple heath about them, the jewelled sky above, this first fresh scent104 of day was in their lungs and nostrils107. That which stirred John Oxon to fury and at the same time shook his nerve, though he owned it not to himself, and would have died rather, was the singular composure of the man who was his opponent. Every feature, every muscle, every fibre of him seemed embodied108 stillness, and 'twas not that the mere physical members of him were still, but that the power which was himself, his will, his thought, his motion was in utter quiet, and of a quiet which was deadly in its significance and purpose. 'Twas that still strength which knows its power and will use it, and ever by its presence fills its enemy with impotent rage.
With such rage it filled John Oxon as he beheld109 it, and sneered. He had heard rumours110 of the wonders of his Grace's sword-play, that from boyhood he had excelled and delighted in it, that in the army he had won renown111, through mere experiments of his skill, that he was as certain of his weapon as an acrobat112 of his least feat—but 'twas not this which maddened the other man but the look in his steady eye.
"You are the bigger man of the two," he jeered113, impudently, "but give me your lesson and shut my mouth on Clo Wildairs—if you can."
"I am the better man," says my lord Duke, "and I will shut it. But I will not kill you."
Then they engaged, and such a fight began as has not been often seen, for such a battle is more of spirit than body, and is more like to be fought alone between two enemies whose antagonism114 is part of being itself, than to be fought in the presence of others whose nearness would but serve to disturb it.
John Oxon had fought duels115 before, through women who were but his despised playthings, through braggadocio116, through drunken folly, through vanity and spite—but never as he fought this night on the broad heath, below the paling stars. This man he hated, this man he would have killed by any thrust he knew, if the devil had helped him. There is no hatred, to a mind like his, such as is wakened by the sight of another's gifts and triumphs—all the more horrible is it if they are borne with nobleness. To have lost all—to see another possess with dignity that thing one has squandered117! And for this frenzy there was more than one cause. Clo Wildairs! He could have cursed aloud. My Lady Dunstanwolde! He could have raved118 like a madman. She! And a Duke here—this Duke would shut his mouth and give him a lesson. He lunged forward and struck wildly; my lord Duke parried his point as if he played with the toy of a child, and in the clear starlight his face looked a beautiful mask, and did not change howsoever furious his opponent's onslaught, or howsoever wondrous119 his own play. For wondrous it was, and before they had been engaged five minutes John Oxon was a maddened creature, driven so, not only by his own fury, but by seeing a certain thing—which was that this man could kill him if he would, but would not. When he had lost his wits and made his senseless lunge, his Grace had but parried when he might have driven his point home; he did this again and again while their swords clashed and darted120. The stamp of their feet sounded dull and heavy on the moor, and John Oxon's breath came short and hissing121. As he grew more wild the other grew more cool and steady, and made a play which Sir John could have shrieked122 out at seeing. What was the man doing? 'Twas as if he would show him where he could strike and did not deign to. He felt his devil's touch in a dozen places, and not one scratch. There he might have laid open his face from brow to chin! Why did he touch him here, there, at one point and another, and deal no wound? Gods! 'twas fighting not with a human thing but with a devil! 'Twas like fighting in a Roman arena124, to be played with as a sport until human strength could bear no more; 'twas as men used to fight together hundreds of years ago. His breath grew short, his panting fiercer, the sweat poured down him, his throat was dry, and he could feel no more the fresh stirring of the air of the dawning. He would not stop to breathe, he had reached the point in his insensate fury when he could have flung himself upon the rapier's point and felt it cleave125 his breastbone and start through his back with the joy of hell, if he could have struck the other man deep but once. The thought made him start afresh; he fought like a thousand devils, his point leaping and flashing, and coming down with a crash; he stamped and gasped126 and shouted.
"Curse you," he cried; "come on!"
"Do I stand back?" said my lord Duke, and gave him such play as made him see the air red as blood, and think he tasted the salt of blood in his dry mouth; his muscles were wrenched127 with his violence, and this giant devil moved as swift as if he had but just begun. Good God! he was beaten! Good God! by this enemy who would not kill him or be killed. He uttered a sound which was a choking shriek123 and hurled128 himself forward. 'Twas his last stroke and he knew it, and my lord Duke struck his point aside and it flew in the air, and Sir John fell backwards129 broken, conquered, exhausted130, but an unwounded man. And he fell full length and lay upon the heather, its purple blooms crushed against his cheek; and the sky was of a sweet pallor just about to glow, and the first bird of morning sprang up in it to sing.
"Damn you!" he gasped. "Damn you," and lay there, his blue eyes glaring, his chest heaving as though 'twould burst, his nostrils dilated131 with his laboured, tortured puffs132 of breath. Thereupon, as he lay prostrate133, for he was too undone134 a man to rise, he saw in his Grace of Osmonde's eyes the two points of light which were like ruthless flames and yet burned so still.
"Do you understand?" he said.
"That you are the better sword—Yes!" shrieked Sir John, and added curses it were useless to repeat.
"That I will have you refrain from speaking that lady's name?"
"Force me to it, if you can," Sir John raved at him. "You can but kill me!"
"I will not kill you," said the Duke, leaning a little nearer and the awful light in his eyes growing intenser—for awful it was and made his pale face deadly. "How I can force you to it I have shown you—and brought you here to prove. For that, I meant that we should fight alone. Myself, I knew, I could hold from killing136 you, howsoever my blood might tempt22 me. You, I knew, I could keep from killing me, which I knew you would have done if you could, by foul137 means if not fair. I would not have it said I was forced to fight to shield that lady's name—so I would have no witness if it could be helped. And you will keep the encounter secret, for I command you."
Sir John started up, leaning upon his elbow, catching138 his breath, and his wicked face a white flame.
"Curse you!" he shrieked again, blaspheming at a thing he had not dreamed of, and which came upon him like a thunderbolt. "Curse your soul—you love her!"
The deadly light danced—he saw it—in his Grace's eyes, but his countenance139 was a marble mask with no human quiver of flesh in any muscle of it.
"I command you," he went on; "having proved I can enforce. I have the blood of savage90 devils in me, come down to me through many hundred years. All my life I have kept them at bay. Until late I did not know how savage they were and what they could make me feel. I could do to you, as you lie there, things a man who is of this century, and sane140, cannot do. You know I can strike where I will. If you slight that lady's name again I will not kill"—he raised himself from his sword and stood his full height, the earliest gold of the sun shining about him—"I will not kill you, but—so help me God!—I will fight with you once more, and I will leave you so maimed and so disfigured that you can woo no woman to ruin again and jest at her shame and agony with no man—for none can bear to look at you without a shudder—and you will lie and writhe141 to be given the coup142 de grace." He lifted the hilt of his sword and kissed it. "That I swear," he said, "by this first dawning of God's sun."
When later my lord Duke returned to the town and got his horse and rode across the moors the shortest road to Camylott, he felt suddenly that his body was slightly trembling. He looked down at his hands and saw they were unsteady, and a strange look—as of a man slowly awakening143 from a dream—- came over his face. 'Twas this he felt—as if the last two hours he had lived in a dream or had been another man than himself, perhaps some bloody144 de Mertoun, who had for ages been dry, light dust. The devils which had been awake in him had been devils so awful as he well knew—not devils to possess and tear a man in the days of good Queen Anne, but such as, in times long past, possessed145 those who slew146, and hacked147, and tortured, and felt an enemy a prey148 to be put to peine forte149 et dure. He drew his glove across his brow and found it damp. This dream had taken hold upon him three hours before, when, standing by chance near a group about John Oxon, he had heard him sneer as the old Earl went by with his lady upon his arm. From that moment his brain had held but one thought—this man should not go away until he had taught him a thing. He would teach him, proving to him that there was a power which he might well fear, and which would show no mercy, not even the mercy mere death would show, but would hold over his vile150 soul a greater awfulness. But he had danced his minuets and gavottes with my Lady Dunstanwolde as well as with other fair ones, and the country gentry had looked on and applauded him in their talk, telling each other of his fortunes, and of how he had had a wound at Blenheim, distinguished151 himself elsewhere, and set the world wondering because after his home-coming he took no Duchess instead of choosing one, as all expected. While they had so talked and he had danced he had made his plan, and his devils had roused themselves and risen. And then he had made his excuses to his party and watched the coaches drive away, and had gone back to seek John Oxon. Now he rode back over the moorland, and the day was awake and he was awake too. He rode swiftly through the gorse and heather, scattering152 the dewdrops as he went, thousands of dewdrops there were, myriads153 of pinkish purple heath-bells, and some pure white ones, and yellow gorse blossoms which smelt154 of honey, and birds that trilled, and such a morning fragrance155 in the air as made his heart ache for vague longing156. Ah, if all had been but as it might have been, for there were the fair grey towers of Camylott rising before him, and he was riding homeward—and, oh, God, if he had been riding home to the arms of the most heaven-sweet woman in the world—heaven-sweet not for her mere loveliness' sake, but because she was to him as Eve had been to Adam—the one woman God had made.
His heart swelled157 and throbbed158 with thinking it as he rode up the avenue, and its throbbing159 almost stopped when he approached the garden and saw a tall white figure standing alone by a fountain and looking down. He sprang from his horse and turned it loose to reach its stable, and went forward feeling as if a dream had begun again, but this time a strange, sweet one.
Her long white draperies hung loose about her, so that she looked like some statue; her hands were crossed on her chest and her chin fell upon them, while her eyes looked straight before into the water. She was pale as he had never seen her look before, her lip had a weary curve and droop160, and under her eyes were shadows. How young she was—what a girl, for all her height and bearing! and though he knew her years so well he had never thought on her youth before. Would God he might have swept her to his breast, crushing her in his arms and plunging161 into her eyes, for as she turned and raised them to him he saw tears.
"Your ladyship," he exclaimed.
"My lord has been ill," she said. "He asked for you, and when he fell asleep I came to get the morning air, hoping your Grace might come. I must go back to him. Come, your Grace, with me."
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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10
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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belied
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| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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14
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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15
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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16
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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17
ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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18
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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19
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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20
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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21
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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22
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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23
lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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24
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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25
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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26
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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27
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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28
besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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30
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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31
susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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32
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
boon
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| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
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34
accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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35
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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36
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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37
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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38
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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39
entrapped
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| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
allurements
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| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
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41
writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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42
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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43
disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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44
wagers
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| n.赌注，用钱打赌( wager的名词复数 )v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的第三人称单数 )；保证，担保 | |
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45
wagered
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| v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的过去式和过去分词 )；保证，担保 | |
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46
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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47
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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48
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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49
flouted
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| v.藐视，轻视( flout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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51
creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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52
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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53
hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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54
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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55
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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56
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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57
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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58
ogled
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| v.（向…）抛媚眼，送秋波( ogle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
sate
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| v.使充分满足 | |
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60
profligacy
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| n.放荡，不检点，肆意挥霍 | |
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61
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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62
marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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63
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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64
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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65
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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66
presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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67
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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68
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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70
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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71
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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72
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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73
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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74
galls
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| v.使…擦痛( gall的第三人称单数 )；擦伤；烦扰；侮辱 | |
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75
deign
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| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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76
disdained
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| 鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
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77
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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78
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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79
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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81
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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82
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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83
ballroom
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| n.舞厅 | |
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84
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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85
deftest
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| adj.熟练的，灵巧的( deft的最高级 ) | |
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86
riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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87
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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88
heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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89
savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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90
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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91
caverns
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| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
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92
upheaval
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| n.胀起，(地壳)的隆起；剧变，动乱 | |
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93
frenzies
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| 狂乱( frenzy的名词复数 )； 极度的激动 | |
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94
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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95
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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96
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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97
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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98
deigns
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的第三人称单数 ) | |
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99
impudently
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100
embargo
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| n.禁运（令）；vt.对...实行禁运，禁止（通商） | |
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101
kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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102
brawling
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| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
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103
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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104
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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105
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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106
foretells
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的第三人称单数 ) | |
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107
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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108
embodied
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| v.表现( embody的过去式和过去分词 )；象征；包括；包含 | |
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109
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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110
rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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111
renown
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| n.声誉，名望 | |
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112
acrobat
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| n.特技演员，杂技演员 | |
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113
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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115
duels
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| n.两男子的决斗( duel的名词复数 )；竞争，斗争 | |
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116
braggadocio
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| n.吹牛大王 | |
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117
squandered
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| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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118
raved
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| v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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119
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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120
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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121
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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122
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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123
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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124
arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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125
cleave
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| v．(clave；cleaved)粘着，粘住；坚持；依恋 | |
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126
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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127
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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128
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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129
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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130
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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131
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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puffs
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| 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 | |
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133
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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134
undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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135
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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136
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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137
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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138
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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139
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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140
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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141
writhe
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| vt.挣扎，痛苦地扭曲；vi.扭曲，翻腾，受苦；n.翻腾，苦恼 | |
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142
coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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143
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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144
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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145
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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146
slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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147
hacked
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| 生气 | |
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148
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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149
forte
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| n.长处，擅长；adj.(音乐)强音的 | |
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150
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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151
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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152
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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153
myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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154
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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155
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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156
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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157
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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158
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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159
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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160
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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161
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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