A Tale of Two Cities-CHAPTER 14 THE HONEST TRADESMAN
时间：2023-10-16 05:02:16
（单词翻译:单击）
THE HONEST TRADESMAN
To the eyes of Mr. Jeremiah Cruncher, sitting on his stool in Fleet Street with his grisly urchin1 beside him, a vast number and variety of objects in movement were every day presented. Who could sit upon anything in Fleet Street during the busy hours of the day, and not be dazed and deafened2 by two immense processions, one ever tending westward3 with the sun, the other ever tending eastward4 from the sun, both ever tending to the plains beyond the range of red and purple where the sun goes down! With his straw in his mouth, Mr. Cruncher sat watching the two streams, like the heathen rustic5 who has for several centuries been on duty watching one stream—saving that Jerry had no expectation of their ever running dry. Nor would it have been an expectation of a hopeful kind, since a small part of his income was derived6 from the pilotage of timid women (mostly of a full habit and past the middle term of life) from Tellson’s side of the tides to the opposite shore. Brief as such companionship was in every separate instance. Mr. Cruncher never failed to become so interested in the lady as to express a strong desire to have the honour of drinking her very good health. And it was from the gifts bestowed7 upon him towards the execution of this benevolent8 purpose, that he recruited his finances, as just now observed.
Time was, when a poet sat upon a stool in a public place, and mused9 in the sight of men. Mr. Cruncher, sitting on a stool in a public place, but not being a poet, mused as little as possible, and looked about him.
It fell out that he was thus engaged in a season when crowds were few, and belated women few, and when his affairs in general were so unprosperous as to awaken10 a strong suspicion in his breast that Mrs. Cruncher must have been “flopping11” in some pointed13 manner, when an unusual concourse pouring down Fleet Street westward, attracted his attention. Looking that way, Mr. Cruncher made out that some kind of funeral was coming along, and that there was popular objection to this funeral, which engendered14 uproar15.
“Young Jerry,” said Mr. Cruncher, turning to his offspring, “it’s a buryin’.”
“Hooroar, father!” cried Young Jerry.
The young man uttered this exultant16 sound with mysterious significance. The elder gentleman took the cry so ill, that he watched his opportunity, and smote17 the young gentleman on the ear.
“What d’ye mean? What are you hooroaring at? What do you want to conwey to your own father, you young Rip! This boy is a getting too many for me!” said Mr. Cruncher, surveying him. “Him and his hooroars! Don’t let me hear no more of you, or you shall feel some more of me. D’ye hear?”
“I warn’t doing no harm,” Young Jerry protested, rubbing his cheek.
“Drop it then,” said Mr. Cruncher; “I won’t have none of your no harms. Get a top of that there seat, and look at the crowd.”
His son obeyed, and the crowd approached; they were bawling18 and hissing19 round a dingy20 hearse and dingy mourning coach, in which mourning coach there was only one mourner, dressed in the dingy trappings that were considered essential to the dignity of the position. The position appeared by no means to please him, however, with an increasing rabble21 surrounding the coach, deriding22 him, making grimaces23 at him, and incessantly24 groaning25 and calling out: “Yah! Spies! Tst! Yaha! Spies!” with many compliments too numerous and forcible to repeat.
Funerals had at all times a remarkable26 attraction for Mr. Cruncher; he always pricked27 up his senses, and became excited, when a funeral passed Tellson’s. Naturally, therefore, a funeral with this uncommon28 attendance excited him greatly, and he asked of the first man who ran against him:
“What is it, brother? What’s it about?”
“I don’t know,” said the man. “Spies! Yaha! Tst! Spies!”
He asked another man. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know,” returned the other man, clapping his hands to his mouth, nevertheless, and vociferating in a surprising heat and with the greatest ardour, “Spies! Yaha! Tst, tst! Spi-ies!”
At length, a person better informed on the merits of the case, tumbled against him, and from this person he learned that the funeral was the funeral of one Roger Cly.
“Was He a spy?” asked Mr. Cruncher.
“Old Bailey spy,” returned his informant. “Yaha! Tst! Yah! Old Bailey Spi-i-ies!”
“Why, to be sure!” exclaimed Jerry, recalling the Trial at which he had assisted. “I’ve seen him. Dead, is he?”
“Dead as mutton,” returned the other, “and can’t be too dead. Have ’em out, there! Spies! Pull ’em out, there! Spies!”
The idea was so acceptable in the prevalent absence of any idea, that the crowd caught it up with eagerness, and loudly repeating the suggestion to have ’em out, and to pull ’em out, mobbed the two vehicles so closely that they came to a stop. On the crowd’s opening the coach doors, the one mourner scuffled out of himself and was in their hands for a moment; but he was so alert, and made such good use of his time, that in another moment he was scouring29 away up by a by-street, after shedding his cloak, hat, long hatband, white pocket-handkerchief, and other symbolical30 tears.
These, the people tore to pieces and scattered31 far and wide with great enjoyment32, while the tradesmen hurriedly shut up their shops; for a crowd in those times stopped at nothing, and was a monster much dreaded33. They had already got to the length of opening the hearse to take the coffin34 out, when some brighter genius proposed instead, its being escorted to its destination amidst general rejoicing. Practical suggestions being much needed, this suggestion, too, was received with acclamation, and the coach was immediately filled with eight inside and a dozen out, while as many people got on the roof of the hearse as could by any exercise of ingenuity35 stick upon it. Among the first of these volunteers was Jerry Cruncher himself, who modestly concealed36 his spiky37 head from the observation of Tellson’s, in the further corner of the mourning coach.
The officiating undertakers made some protest against these changes in the ceremonies; but, the river being alarmingly near, and several voices remarking on the efficacy of cold immersion38 in bringing refractory39 members of the profession to reason, the protest was faint and brief. The remodelled40 procession started, with a chimney-sweep driving the hearse—advised by the regular driver, who was perched beside him, under close inspection41, for the purpose—and with a pie-man, also attended by his cabinet minister, driving the mourning coach. A bear-leader, a popular street character of the time, was impressed as an additional ornament42, before the cavalcade43 had gone far down the Strand44; and his bear, who was black and very mangy, gave quite an Undertaking45 air to that part of the procession in which he walked.
Thus, with beer-drinking, pipe-smoking, song-roaring, and infinite caricaturing of woe46, the disorderly procession went its way, recruiting at every step, and all the shops shutting up before it. Its destination was the old church of Saint Pancras, far off in the fields. It got there in course of time; insisted on pouring into the burial-ground; finally, accomplished47 the interment of the deceased Roger Cly in its own way, and highly to its own satisfaction.
The dead man disposed of, and the crowd being under the necessity of providing some other entertainment for itself, another brighter genius (or perhaps the same) conceived the humour of impeaching48 casual passers-by, as Old Bailey spies, and wreaking49 vengeance50 on them. Chase was given to some scores of inoffensive persons who had never been near the Old Bailey in their lives, in the realisation of this fancy, and they were roughly hustled51 and maltreated. The transition to the sport of window-breaking, and thence to the plundering52 of public-houses, was easy and natural. At last, after several hours, when sundry53 summer-houses had been pulled down, and some area-railings had been torn up, to arm the more belligerent54 spirits, a rumour55 got about that the Guards were coming. Before the rumour, the crowd gradually melted away, and perhaps the Guards came, and perhaps they never came, and this was the usual progress of a mob.
Mr. Cruncher did not assist at the closing sports, but had remained behind in the churchyard, to confer and condole56 with the undertakers. The place had a soothing57 influence on him. He procured58 a pipe from a neighbouring public-house, and smoked it, looking in at the railings and maturely considering the spot.
“Jerry,” said Mr. Cruncher, apostrophising himself his usual way, “you see that there Cly that day, and you see with your own eyes that he was a young ’un and a straight made ’un.”
Having smoked his pipe out, and ruminated59 a little longer, he turned himself about, that he might appear before the hour of closing, on his station at Tellson’s. Whether his meditations60 on morality had touched his liver, or whether his general health had been previously61 at all amiss, or whether he desired to show a little attention to an eminent62 man, is not so much to the purpose, as that he made a short call upon his medical adviser—a distinguished63 surgeon—on his way back.
Young Jerry relieved his father with dutiful interest, and reported No job in his absence. The bank closed, the ancient clerks came out, the usual watch was set, and Mr. Cruncher and his son went home to tea.
“Now, I tell you where it is!” said Mr. Cruncher to his wife, on entering. “If, as a honest tradesman, my wentures goes wrong tonight, I shall make sure that you’ve been praying agin me, and I shall work you for it just the same as if I seen you do it.”
The dejected Mrs. Cruncher shook her head.
“Why, you’re at it afore my face!” said Mr. Cruncher, with signs of angry apprehension64.
“I am saying nothing.”
“Well, then; don’t meditate65 nothing. You might as well flop12 as meditate. You may as well go again me one way as another. Drop it altogether.”
“Yes, Jerry.”
“Yes, Jerry,” repeated Mr. Cruncher sitting down to tea. “Ah! It is yes, Jerry. That’s about it. You may say yes, Jerry.”
Mr. Cruncher had no particular meaning in these sulky corroborations, but made use of them, as people not unfrequently do, to express general ironical66 dissatisfaction.
“You and your yes, Jerry,” said Mr. Cruncher, taking a bite out of his bread-and-butter, and seeming to help it down with a large invisible oyster67 out of his saucer. “Ah! I think so. I believe you.”
“You were going out tonight?” asked his decent wife, when he took another bite.
“Yes, I am.”
“May I go with you, father?” asked his son, briskly.
“No, you mayn’t. I’m a going—as your mother knows—a fishing. That’s where I’m going to. Going a fishing.”
“Never you mind.”
“Shall you bring any fish home, father?”
“If I don’t, you’ll have short commons, tomorrow,” returned that gentleman, shaking his head; “that’s questions enough for you; I ain’t a going out, till you’ve been long a-bed.”
He devoted69 himself during the remainder of the evening to keeping a most vigilant70 watch on Mrs. Cruncher, and sullenly71 holding her in conversation that she might be prevented from meditating72 any petitions to his disadvantage. With this view, he urged his son to hold her in conversation also, and led the unfortunate woman a hard life by dwelling73 on any causes of complaint he could bring against her, rather than he would leave her for a moment to her own reflections. The devoutest person could have rendered no greater homage74 to the efficacy of an honest prayer than he did in this distrust of his wife. It was as if a professed75 unbeliever in ghosts should be frightened by a ghost story.
“And mind you!” said Mr. Cruncher. “No games tomorrow! If I, as a honest tradesman, succeed in providing a jinte of meat or two, none of your not touching76 of it, and sticking to bread. If I, as a honest tradesman, am able to provide a little beer, none of your declaring on water. When you go to Rome, do as Rome does. Rome will be a ugly customer to you, if you don’t. I’m your Rome, you know.”
“With you flying into the face of your own wittles and drink! I don’t know how scarce you mayn’t make the wittles and drink here, by your flopping tricks and your unfeeling conduct. Look at your boy: he is your’n, ain’t he? He’s as thin as a lath. Do you call yourself a mother, and not know that a mother’s first duty is to blow her boy out?”
This touched young Jerry on a tender place; who adjured78 his mother to perform her first duty, and whatever else she did or neglected, above all things to lay especial stress on the discharge of that maternal79 function so affectingly and delicately indicated by his other parent.
Thus the evening wore away with the Cruncher family, until Young Jerry was ordered to bed, and his mother, laid under similar injunctions, obeyed them. Mr. Cruncher beguiled80 the earlier watches of the night with solitary81 pipes, and did not start upon his excursion until one o’clock. Towards that small and ghostly hour, he rose up from his chair, took a key out of his pocket, opened a locked cupboard, and brought forth82 a sack, a crowbar of convenient size, a rope and chain, and other fishing tackle of that nature. Disposing these articles about him in skilful83 manner, he bestowed a parting defiance84 on Mrs. Cruncher, extinguished the light, and went out.
Young Jerry, who had only made a feint of undressing when he went to bed, was not long after his father. Under cover of the darkness he followed out of the room, followed down the stairs, followed down the court, followed out into the streets. He was in no uneasiness concerning his getting into the house again, for it was full of lodgers85, and the door stood ajar all night.
Impelled86 by a laudable ambition to study the art and mystery of his father’s honest calling, Young Jerry, keeping as close to house fronts, walls, and doorways87, as his eyes were close to one another, held his honoured parent in view. The honoured parent steering88 northward89, had not gone far, when he was joined by another disciple90 of Izaak Walton, and the two trudged91 on together.
Within half an hour from the first starting, they were beyond the winking92 lamps, and the more than winking watchman, and were out upon a lonely road. Another fisherman was picked up here—and that so silently, that if Young Jerry had been superstitious93, he might have supposed the second follower94 of the gentle craft to have, all of a sudden, split himself in two.
The three went on, and Young Jerry went on, until the three stopped under a bank overhanging the road. Upon the top of the bank was a low brick wall, surmounted95 by an iron railing. In the shadow of bank and wall the three turned out of the road, and up a blind lane, of which the wall—there, risen to some eight or ten feet high—formed one side. Crouching96 down in a corner, peeping up the lane, the next object that Young Jerry saw was the form of his honoured parent, pretty well defined against a watery97 and clouded moon, nimbly scaling an iron gate. He was soon over, and then the second fisherman got over, and then the third. They all dropped softly on the ground within the gate, and lay there a little— listening perhaps. Then they moved away on their hands and knees.
It was now Young Jerry’s turn to approach the gate: which he did, holding his breath. Crouching down again in a corner there, and looking in, he made out the three fishermen creeping through some rank grass! And all the gravestones in the churchyard—it was a large churchyard that they were in—looking on like ghosts in white, while the church tower itself looked on like the ghost of a monstrous98 giant. They did not creep far, before they stopped and stood upright. And then they began to fish.
They fished with a spade, at first. Presently the honoured parent appeared to be adjusting some instrument like a great corkscrew. Whatever tools they worked with, they worked hard, until the awful striking of the church clock so terrified Young Jerry, that he made off, with his hair as stiff as his father’s.
But, his long-cherished desire to know more about these matters, not only stopped him in his running away, but lured99 him back again. They were still fishing perseveringly100, when he peeped in at the gate for the second time; but now they seemed to have got a bite. There was a screwing and complaining sound down below, and their bent101 figures were strained, as if by a weight. By slow degrees the weight broke away the earth upon it, and came to the surface. Young Jerry very well knew what it would be; but, when he saw it, and saw his honoured parent about to wrench102 it open, he was so frightened, being new to the sight, that he made off again, and never stopped until he had run a mile or more.
He would not have stopped then, for anything less necessary than breath, it being a spectral103 sort of race that he ran, and one highly desirable to get to the end of. He had a strong idea that the coffin he had seen was running after him; and, pictured as hopping104 on behind him, bolt upright, upon its narrow end, always on the point of overtaking him and hopping on at his side— perhaps taking his arm—it was a pursuer to shun105. It was an inconsistent and ubiquitous fiend too, for, while it was making the whole night behind him dreadful, he darted106 out into the roadway to avoid dark alleys107, fearful of its coming hopping out of them like a dropsical boy’s-Kite without tail and wings. It hid in doorways too, rubbing its horrible shoulders against doors, and drawing them up to its ears, as if it were laughing. It got into shadows on the road, and lay cunningly on its back to trip him up. All this time it was incessantly hopping on behind and gaining on him, so that when the boy got to his own door he had reason for being half dead. And even then it would not leave him, but followed him upstairs with a bump on every stair, scrambled108 into bed with him, and bumped down, dead and heavy, on his breast when he fell asleep.
From his oppressed slumber109, Young Jerry in his closet was awakened110 after daybreak and before sunrise by the presence of his father in the family room. Something had gone wrong with him; at least so Young Jerry inferred, from the circumstance of his holding Mrs. Cruncher by the ears, and knocking the back of her
head against the headboard of the bed.
“I told you I would,” said Mr. Cruncher, “and I did.”
“You oppose yourself to the profit of the business,” said Jerry, “and me and my partners suffer. You was to honour and obey; why the devil don’t you?”
“I try to be a good wife, Jerry,” the poor woman protested, with tears.
“Is it being a good wife to oppose your husband’s business? Is it honouring your husband to dishonour112 his business? Is it obeying your husband to disobey him on the wital subject of his business?”
“You hadn’t taken to the dreadful business then, Jerry.”
“It’s enough for you,” retorted Mr. Cruncher, “to be the wife of a honest tradesman, and not occupy your female mind with calculations when he took to his trade or when he didn’t. A honouring and obeying wife would let his trade alone altogether. Call yourself a religious woman? If you’re a religious woman, give me a irreligious one! You have no more nat’ral sense of duty than the bed of this here Thames river has of a pile, and similarly it must be knocked into you.”
The altercation113 was conducted in a low tone of voice, and terminated in the honest tradesman’s kicking off his clay-soiled boots, and lying down at his length on the floor. After taking a timid peep at him lying on his back, with his rusty hands under his head for a pillow, his son lay down too, and fell asleep again.
There was no fish for breakfast, and not much of anything else. Mr. Cruncher was out of spirits, and out of temper, and kept an iron pot-lid by him as a projectile114 for the correction of Mrs.
Cruncher, in case he should observe any symptoms of her saying Grace. He was brushed and washed at the usual hour, and set off with his son to pursue his ostensible115 calling.
Young Jerry, walking with the stool under his arm at his father’s side along sunny and crowded Fleet Street, was a very different Young Jerry from him of the previous night, running home through the darkness and solitude116 from his grim pursuer. His cunning was fresh with the day, and his qualms117 were gone with the night—in which particulars it is not improbable that he had compeers in Fleet Street and the City of London, that fine morning.
“Father,” said Young Jerry, as they walked along: taking care to keep at arm’s length and to have the stool well between them: “what’s a Resurrection-Man?”
Mr. Cruncher came to a stop on the pavement before he answered, “How should I know?”
“I thought you knowed everything, father,” said the artless boy.
“Hem! Well,” returned Mr. Cruncher, going on again, and lifting off his hat to give his spikes118 free play. “he’s a tradesman.”
“What’s his goods, father?” asked the brisk Young Jerry.
“His goods,” said Mr. Cruncher, after turning it over in his mind, “is a branch of Scientific goods.”
“Persons’ bodies, ain’t it, father?” asked the lively boy.
“I believe it is something of that sort,” said Mr. Cruncher.
“Oh, father, I should so like to be a Resurrection-Man when I’m quite growed up!”
Mr. Cruncher was soothed119, but shook his head in a dubious120 and moral way. “It depends on how you dewelop your talents. Be careful to dewelop your talents, and never to say no more than you can help to nobody, and there’s no telling at the present time what you may not come to be fit for.” As Young Jerry, thus encouraged, went on a few yards in advance, to plant the stool in the shadow of the Bar, Mr. Cruncher added to himself: “Jerry, you honest tradesman, there’s hope wot that boy will yet be a blessing121 to you, and a recompense to you for his mother.”
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1
urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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deafened
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| 使聋( deafen的过去式和过去分词 )； 使隔音 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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flopping
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| n.贬调v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的现在分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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flop
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| n.失败(者)，扑通一声；vi.笨重地行动，沉重地落下 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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engendered
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| v.产生（某形势或状况），造成，引起( engender的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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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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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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deriding
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| v.取笑，嘲笑( deride的现在分词 ) | |
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grimaces
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| n.（表蔑视、厌恶等）面部扭曲，鬼脸( grimace的名词复数 )v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的第三人称单数 ) | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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scouring
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| 擦[洗]净，冲刷，洗涤 | |
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symbolical
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| a.象征性的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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dreaded
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| 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) | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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spiky
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| adj.长而尖的，大钉似的 | |
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immersion
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| n.沉浸；专心 | |
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refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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remodelled
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| v.改变…的结构[形状]( remodel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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42
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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43
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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44
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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45
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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46
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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47
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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48
impeaching
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| v.控告（某人）犯罪( impeach的现在分词 )；弹劾；对（某事物）怀疑；提出异议 | |
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49
wreaking
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| 诉诸（武力），施行（暴力），发（脾气）( wreak的现在分词 ) | |
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50
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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51
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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52
plundering
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的现在分词 ) | |
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53
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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54
belligerent
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| adj.好战的，挑起战争的；n.交战国，交战者 | |
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55
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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56
condole
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| v.同情；慰问 | |
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57
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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58
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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ruminated
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| v.沉思( ruminate的过去式和过去分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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60
meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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61
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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62
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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63
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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64
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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65
meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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66
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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67
oyster
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| n.牡蛎；沉默寡言的人 | |
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68
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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vigilant
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| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
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71
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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72
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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73
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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74
homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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75
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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76
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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77
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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78
adjured
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| v.（以起誓或诅咒等形式）命令要求( adjure的过去式和过去分词 )；祈求；恳求 | |
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79
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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80
beguiled
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| v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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81
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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82
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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83
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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84
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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85
lodgers
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| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
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86
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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88
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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89
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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90
disciple
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| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
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91
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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92
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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93
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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94
follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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95
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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96
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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97
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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98
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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99
lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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100
perseveringly
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| 坚定地 | |
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101
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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102
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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103
spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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104
hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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105
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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106
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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107
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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108
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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109
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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110
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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111
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
dishonour
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| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
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113
altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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114
projectile
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| n.投射物，发射体；adj.向前开进的；推进的；抛掷的 | |
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115
ostensible
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| adj.(指理由)表面的，假装的 | |
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116
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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117
qualms
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| n.不安；内疚 | |
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118
spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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119
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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120
dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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121
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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