章节正文
the dark fell, and silence.
Thank God it was a black night. The moon was well on its last
quarter and would not rise till late. My thirst was too great to allow
me to tarry, so about nine o'clock, so far as I could judge, I started
to descend. It wasn't easy, and half-way down I heard the back door
of the house open, and saw the gleam of a lantern against the mill
wall. For some agonizing minutes I hung by the ivy and prayed
that whoever it was would not come round by the dovecot. Then
the light disappeared, and I dropped as softly as I could on to the
hard soil of the yard.
I crawled on my belly in the lee of a stone dyke till I reached the
fringe of trees which surrounded the house. If I had known how to
do it I would have tried to put that aeroplane out of action, but I
realized that any attempt would probably be futile. I was pretty
certain that there would be some kind of defence round the house,
so I went through the wood on hands and knees, feeling carefully
every inch before me. It was as well, for presently I came on a wire
about two feet from the ground. If I had tripped over that, it
would doubtless have rung some bell in the house and I would
have been captured.
A hundred yards farther on I found another wire cunningly
placed on the edge of a small stream. Beyond that lay the moor, and
in five minutes I was deep in bracken and heather. Soon I was
round the shoulder of the rise, in the little glen from which the
mill-lade flowed. Ten minutes later my face was in the spring, and I
was soaking down pints of the blessed water.
But I did not stop till I had put half a dozen miles between me
and that accursed dwelling.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Dry-Fly Fisherman
I sat down on a hill-top and took stock of my position. I wasn't
feeling very happy, for my natural thankfulness at my escape was
clouded by my severebodilydiscomfort. Those lentonite fumes had
fairly poisoned me, and the baking hours on the dovecot hadn't
helped matters. I had a crushing headache, and felt as sick as a cat.
Also my shoulder was in a bad way. At first I thought it was only a
bruise, but it seemed to be swelling, and I had no use of my left arm.
My plan was to seek Mr Turnbull's cottage, recover my garments,
and especially Scudder's note-book, and then make for the main
line and get back to the south. It seemed to me that the sooner I
got in touch with the Foreign Office man, Sir Walter Bullivant, the
better. I didn't see how I could get more proof than I had got
already. He must just take or leave my story, and anyway, with him
I would be in better hands than those devilish Germans. I had
begun to feel quite kindly towards the British police.
It was a wonderful starry night, and I had not much difficulty
about the road. Sir Harry's map had given me the lie of the land,
and all I had to do was to steer a point or two west of south-west
to come to the stream where I had met the roadman. In all these
travels I never knew the names of the places, but I believe this
stream was no less than the upper waters of the river Tweed. I
calculated I must be about eighteen miles distant, and that meant I
could not get there before morning. So I must lie up a day somewhere,
for I was too outrageous a figure to be seen in the sunlight.
I had neither coat, waistcoat, collar, nor hat, my trousers were
badly torn, and my face and hands were black with the explosion. I
daresay I had other beauties, for my eyes felt as if they were
furiously bloodshot. Altogether I was no spectacle for God-fearing
citizens to see on a highroad.
Very soon after daybreak I made an attempt to clean myself in a
hill burn, and then approached a herd's cottage, for I was feeling
the need of food. The herd was away from home, and his wife was
alone, with no neighbour for five miles. She was a decent old body,
and a plucky one, for though she got a fright when she saw me, she
had an axe handy, and would have used it on any evil-doer. I told
her that I had had a fall - I didn't say how - and she saw by my
looks that I was pretty sick. Like a true Samaritan she asked no
questions, but gave me a bowl of milk with a dash of whisky in it,
and let me sit for a little by her kitchen fire. She would have bathed
my shoulder, but it ached so badly that I would not let her touch it.
I don't know what she took me for - a repentant burglar,
perhaps; for when I wanted to pay her for the milk and tendered a
sovereign which was the smallest coin I had, she shook her head
and said something about 'giving it to them that had a right to it'.
At this I protested so strongly that I think she believed me honest,
for she took the money and gave me a warm new plaid for it, and
an old hat of her man's. She showed me how to wrap the plaid
around my shoulders, and when I left that cottage I was the living
image of the kind of Scotsman you see in the illustrations to
Burns's poems. But at any rate I was more or less clad.
It was as well, for the weather changed before midday to a thick
drizzle of rain. I found shelter below an overhanging rock in the
crook of a burn, where a drift of dead brackens made a tolerable
bed. There I managed to sleep till nightfall, waking very cramped
and wretched, with my shoulder gnawing like a toothache. I ate the
oatcake and cheese the old wife had given me and set out again just
before the darkening.
I pass over the miseries of that night among the wet hills. There
were no stars to steer by, and I had to do the best I could from my
memory of the map. Twice I lost my way, and I had some nasty
falls into peat-bogs. I had only about ten miles to go as the crow
flies, but my mistakes made it nearer twenty. The last bit was
completed with set teeth and a very light and dizzy head. But I
managed it, and in the early dawn I was knocking at Mr Turnbull's
door. The mist lay close and thick, and from the cottage I could
not see the highroad.
Mr Turnbull himself opened to me - sober and something more
than sober. He was primly dressed in an ancient but well-tended
suit of black; he had been shaved not later than the night before; he
wore a linen collar; and in his left hand he carried a pocket Bible.
At first he did not recognize me.
'Whae are ye that comes stravaigin' here on the Sabbath mornin'?'
he asked.
I had lost all count of the days. So the Sabbath was the reason
for this strange decorum.
My head was swimming so wildly that I could not frame a
coherent answer. But he recognized me, and he saw that I was ill.
'Hae ye got my specs?' he asked.
I fetched them out of my trouser pocket and gave him them.
'Ye'll hae come for your jaicket and westcoat,' he said. 'Come in-
bye. Losh, man, ye're terrible dune i' the legs. Haud up till I get ye
to a chair.'
I perceived I was in for a bout of malaria. I had a good deal of
fever in my bones, and the wet night had brought it out, while my
shoulder and the effects of the fumes combined to make me feel
pretty bad. Before I knew, Mr Turnbull was helping me off with
my clothes, and putting me to bed in one of the two cupboards that
lined the kitchen walls.
He was a true friend in need, that old roadman. His wife was
dead years ago, and since his daughter's marriage he lived alone.
For the better part of ten days he did all the rough nursing I
needed. I simply wanted to be left in peace while the fever took its
course, and when my skin was cool again I found that the bout had
more or less cured my shoulder. But it was a baddish go, and
though I was out of bed in five days, it took me some time to get
my legs again.
He went out each morning, leaving me milk for the day, and
locking the door behind him; and came in in the evening to sit
silent in the chimney corner. Not a soul came near the place. When
I was getting better, he never bothered me with a question. Several
times he fetched me a two days' old SCOTSMAN, and I noticed that the
interest in the Portland Place murder seemed to have died down.
There was no mention of it, and I could find very little about
anything except a thing called the General Assembly - some
ecclesiastical spree, I gathered.
One day he produced my belt from a lockfast drawer. 'There's a
terrible heap o' siller in't,' he said. 'Ye'd better coont it to see
it's a' there.'
He never even sought my name. I asked him if anybody had
been around making inquiries subsequent to my spell at the road-making.
'Ay, there was a man in a motor-cawr. He speired whae had ta'en
my place that day, and I let on I thocht him daft. But he keepit on
at me, and syne I said he maun be thinkin' o' my gude-brither frae
the Cleuch that whiles lent me a haun'. He was a wersh-lookin'
sowl, and I couldna understand the half o' his English tongue.'
I was getting restless those last days, and as soon as I felt myself
fit I decided to be off. That was not till the twelfth day of June,
and as luck would have it a drover went past that morning taking
some cattle to Moffat. He was a man named Hislop, a friend of
Turnbull's, and he came in to his breakfast with us and offered to
take me with him.
I made Turnbull accept five pounds for my lodging, and a hard
job I had of it. There never was a more independent being. He
grew positively rude when I pressed him, and shy and red, and
took the money at last without a thank you. When I told him how
much I owed him, he grunted something about 'ae guid turn
deservin' anither'. You would have thought from our leave-taking
that we had parted in disgust.
Hislop was a cheery soul, who chattered all the way over the pass
and down the sunny vale of Annan. I talked of Galloway markets
and sheep prices, and he made up his mind I was a 'pack-shepherd'
from those parts - whatever that may be. My plaid and my old hat,
as I have said, gave me a fine theatrical Scots look. But driving
cattle is a mortally slow job, and we took the better part of the day
to cover a dozen miles.
If I had not had such an anxious heart I would have enjoyed that
time. It was shining blue weather, with a constantly changing
prospect of brown hills and far green meadows, and a continual
sound of larks and curlews and falling streams. But I had no mind
for the summer, and little for Hislop's conversation, for as the
fateful fifteenth of June drew near I was overweighed with the
hopeless difficulties of my enterprise.
I got some dinner in a humble Moffat public-house, and walked
the two miles to the junction on the main line. The night express
for the south was not due till near midnight, and to fill up the time
I went up on the hillside and fell asleep, for the walk had tired me.
I all but slept too long, and had to run to the station and catch the
train with two minutes to spare. The feel of the hard third-class
cushions and the smell of stale tobacco cheered me up wonderfully.
At any rate, I felt now that I was getting to grips with my job.
I was decanted at Crewe in the small hours and had to wait till six to
get a train for Birmingham. In the afternoon I got to Reading, and
changed into a local train which journeyed into the deeps of Berkshire.
Presently I was in a land of lush water-meadows and slow
reedy streams. About eight o'clock in the evening, a weary and
travel-stained being - a cross between a farm-labourer and a vet -
with a checked black-and-white plaid over his arm (for I did not
dare to wear it south of the Border), descended at the little station
of Artinswell. There were several people on the platform, and I
thought I had better wait to ask my way till I was clear of the place.
The road led through a wood of great beeches and then into a
shallow valley, with the green backs of downs peeping over the
distant trees. After Scotland the air smelt heavy and flat, but
infinitely sweet, for the limes and chestnuts and lilac bushes were domes
of blossom. Presently I came to a bridge, below which a clear slow
stream flowed between snowy beds of water-buttercups. A little
above it was a mill; and the lasher made a pleasant cool sound in
the scented dusk. Somehow the place soothed me and put me at my
ease. I fell to whistling as I looked into the green depths, and the
tune which came to my lips was 'Annie Laurie'.
A fisherman came up from the waterside, and as he neared me he
Thank God it was a black night. The moon was well on its last
quarter and would not rise till late. My thirst was too great to allow
me to tarry, so about nine o'clock, so far as I could judge, I started
to descend. It wasn't easy, and half-way down I heard the back door
of the house open, and saw the gleam of a lantern against the mill
wall. For some agonizing minutes I hung by the ivy and prayed
that whoever it was would not come round by the dovecot. Then
the light disappeared, and I dropped as softly as I could on to the
hard soil of the yard.
I crawled on my belly in the lee of a stone dyke till I reached the
fringe of trees which surrounded the house. If I had known how to
do it I would have tried to put that aeroplane out of action, but I
realized that any attempt would probably be futile. I was pretty
certain that there would be some kind of defence round the house,
so I went through the wood on hands and knees, feeling carefully
every inch before me. It was as well, for presently I came on a wire
about two feet from the ground. If I had tripped over that, it
would doubtless have rung some bell in the house and I would
have been captured.
A hundred yards farther on I found another wire cunningly
placed on the edge of a small stream. Beyond that lay the moor, and
in five minutes I was deep in bracken and heather. Soon I was
round the shoulder of the rise, in the little glen from which the
mill-lade flowed. Ten minutes later my face was in the spring, and I
was soaking down pints of the blessed water.
But I did not stop till I had put half a dozen miles between me
and that accursed dwelling.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Dry-Fly Fisherman
I sat down on a hill-top and took stock of my position. I wasn't
feeling very happy, for my natural thankfulness at my escape was
clouded by my severebodilydiscomfort. Those lentonite fumes had
fairly poisoned me, and the baking hours on the dovecot hadn't
helped matters. I had a crushing headache, and felt as sick as a cat.
Also my shoulder was in a bad way. At first I thought it was only a
bruise, but it seemed to be swelling, and I had no use of my left arm.
My plan was to seek Mr Turnbull's cottage, recover my garments,
and especially Scudder's note-book, and then make for the main
line and get back to the south. It seemed to me that the sooner I
got in touch with the Foreign Office man, Sir Walter Bullivant, the
better. I didn't see how I could get more proof than I had got
already. He must just take or leave my story, and anyway, with him
I would be in better hands than those devilish Germans. I had
begun to feel quite kindly towards the British police.
It was a wonderful starry night, and I had not much difficulty
about the road. Sir Harry's map had given me the lie of the land,
and all I had to do was to steer a point or two west of south-west
to come to the stream where I had met the roadman. In all these
travels I never knew the names of the places, but I believe this
stream was no less than the upper waters of the river Tweed. I
calculated I must be about eighteen miles distant, and that meant I
could not get there before morning. So I must lie up a day somewhere,
for I was too outrageous a figure to be seen in the sunlight.
I had neither coat, waistcoat, collar, nor hat, my trousers were
badly torn, and my face and hands were black with the explosion. I
daresay I had other beauties, for my eyes felt as if they were
furiously bloodshot. Altogether I was no spectacle for God-fearing
citizens to see on a highroad.
Very soon after daybreak I made an attempt to clean myself in a
hill burn, and then approached a herd's cottage, for I was feeling
the need of food. The herd was away from home, and his wife was
alone, with no neighbour for five miles. She was a decent old body,
and a plucky one, for though she got a fright when she saw me, she
had an axe handy, and would have used it on any evil-doer. I told
her that I had had a fall - I didn't say how - and she saw by my
looks that I was pretty sick. Like a true Samaritan she asked no
questions, but gave me a bowl of milk with a dash of whisky in it,
and let me sit for a little by her kitchen fire. She would have bathed
my shoulder, but it ached so badly that I would not let her touch it.
I don't know what she took me for - a repentant burglar,
perhaps; for when I wanted to pay her for the milk and tendered a
sovereign which was the smallest coin I had, she shook her head
and said something about 'giving it to them that had a right to it'.
At this I protested so strongly that I think she believed me honest,
for she took the money and gave me a warm new plaid for it, and
an old hat of her man's. She showed me how to wrap the plaid
around my shoulders, and when I left that cottage I was the living
image of the kind of Scotsman you see in the illustrations to
Burns's poems. But at any rate I was more or less clad.
It was as well, for the weather changed before midday to a thick
drizzle of rain. I found shelter below an overhanging rock in the
crook of a burn, where a drift of dead brackens made a tolerable
bed. There I managed to sleep till nightfall, waking very cramped
and wretched, with my shoulder gnawing like a toothache. I ate the
oatcake and cheese the old wife had given me and set out again just
before the darkening.
I pass over the miseries of that night among the wet hills. There
were no stars to steer by, and I had to do the best I could from my
memory of the map. Twice I lost my way, and I had some nasty
falls into peat-bogs. I had only about ten miles to go as the crow
flies, but my mistakes made it nearer twenty. The last bit was
completed with set teeth and a very light and dizzy head. But I
managed it, and in the early dawn I was knocking at Mr Turnbull's
door. The mist lay close and thick, and from the cottage I could
not see the highroad.
Mr Turnbull himself opened to me - sober and something more
than sober. He was primly dressed in an ancient but well-tended
suit of black; he had been shaved not later than the night before; he
wore a linen collar; and in his left hand he carried a pocket Bible.
At first he did not recognize me.
'Whae are ye that comes stravaigin' here on the Sabbath mornin'?'
he asked.
I had lost all count of the days. So the Sabbath was the reason
for this strange decorum.
My head was swimming so wildly that I could not frame a
coherent answer. But he recognized me, and he saw that I was ill.
'Hae ye got my specs?' he asked.
I fetched them out of my trouser pocket and gave him them.
'Ye'll hae come for your jaicket and westcoat,' he said. 'Come in-
bye. Losh, man, ye're terrible dune i' the legs. Haud up till I get ye
to a chair.'
I perceived I was in for a bout of malaria. I had a good deal of
fever in my bones, and the wet night had brought it out, while my
shoulder and the effects of the fumes combined to make me feel
pretty bad. Before I knew, Mr Turnbull was helping me off with
my clothes, and putting me to bed in one of the two cupboards that
lined the kitchen walls.
He was a true friend in need, that old roadman. His wife was
dead years ago, and since his daughter's marriage he lived alone.
For the better part of ten days he did all the rough nursing I
needed. I simply wanted to be left in peace while the fever took its
course, and when my skin was cool again I found that the bout had
more or less cured my shoulder. But it was a baddish go, and
though I was out of bed in five days, it took me some time to get
my legs again.
He went out each morning, leaving me milk for the day, and
locking the door behind him; and came in in the evening to sit
silent in the chimney corner. Not a soul came near the place. When
I was getting better, he never bothered me with a question. Several
times he fetched me a two days' old SCOTSMAN, and I noticed that the
interest in the Portland Place murder seemed to have died down.
There was no mention of it, and I could find very little about
anything except a thing called the General Assembly - some
ecclesiastical spree, I gathered.
One day he produced my belt from a lockfast drawer. 'There's a
terrible heap o' siller in't,' he said. 'Ye'd better coont it to see
it's a' there.'
He never even sought my name. I asked him if anybody had
been around making inquiries subsequent to my spell at the road-making.
'Ay, there was a man in a motor-cawr. He speired whae had ta'en
my place that day, and I let on I thocht him daft. But he keepit on
at me, and syne I said he maun be thinkin' o' my gude-brither frae
the Cleuch that whiles lent me a haun'. He was a wersh-lookin'
sowl, and I couldna understand the half o' his English tongue.'
I was getting restless those last days, and as soon as I felt myself
fit I decided to be off. That was not till the twelfth day of June,
and as luck would have it a drover went past that morning taking
some cattle to Moffat. He was a man named Hislop, a friend of
Turnbull's, and he came in to his breakfast with us and offered to
take me with him.
I made Turnbull accept five pounds for my lodging, and a hard
job I had of it. There never was a more independent being. He
grew positively rude when I pressed him, and shy and red, and
took the money at last without a thank you. When I told him how
much I owed him, he grunted something about 'ae guid turn
deservin' anither'. You would have thought from our leave-taking
that we had parted in disgust.
Hislop was a cheery soul, who chattered all the way over the pass
and down the sunny vale of Annan. I talked of Galloway markets
and sheep prices, and he made up his mind I was a 'pack-shepherd'
from those parts - whatever that may be. My plaid and my old hat,
as I have said, gave me a fine theatrical Scots look. But driving
cattle is a mortally slow job, and we took the better part of the day
to cover a dozen miles.
If I had not had such an anxious heart I would have enjoyed that
time. It was shining blue weather, with a constantly changing
prospect of brown hills and far green meadows, and a continual
sound of larks and curlews and falling streams. But I had no mind
for the summer, and little for Hislop's conversation, for as the
fateful fifteenth of June drew near I was overweighed with the
hopeless difficulties of my enterprise.
I got some dinner in a humble Moffat public-house, and walked
the two miles to the junction on the main line. The night express
for the south was not due till near midnight, and to fill up the time
I went up on the hillside and fell asleep, for the walk had tired me.
I all but slept too long, and had to run to the station and catch the
train with two minutes to spare. The feel of the hard third-class
cushions and the smell of stale tobacco cheered me up wonderfully.
At any rate, I felt now that I was getting to grips with my job.
I was decanted at Crewe in the small hours and had to wait till six to
get a train for Birmingham. In the afternoon I got to Reading, and
changed into a local train which journeyed into the deeps of Berkshire.
Presently I was in a land of lush water-meadows and slow
reedy streams. About eight o'clock in the evening, a weary and
travel-stained being - a cross between a farm-labourer and a vet -
with a checked black-and-white plaid over his arm (for I did not
dare to wear it south of the Border), descended at the little station
of Artinswell. There were several people on the platform, and I
thought I had better wait to ask my way till I was clear of the place.
The road led through a wood of great beeches and then into a
shallow valley, with the green backs of downs peeping over the
distant trees. After Scotland the air smelt heavy and flat, but
infinitely sweet, for the limes and chestnuts and lilac bushes were domes
of blossom. Presently I came to a bridge, below which a clear slow
stream flowed between snowy beds of water-buttercups. A little
above it was a mill; and the lasher made a pleasant cool sound in
the scented dusk. Somehow the place soothed me and put me at my
ease. I fell to whistling as I looked into the green depths, and the
tune which came to my lips was 'Annie Laurie'.
A fisherman came up from the waterside, and as he neared me he
- thirst [θə:st]
n.渴，口渴；渴望 (初中英语单词) - descend [di´send] v.下来，下降 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- doubtless [´dautlis] ad.无疑地；大概，多半 (初中英语单词)
- stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
- severe [si´viə] a.严厉的；苛刻的 (初中英语单词)
- cottage [´kɔtidʒ] n.村舍；小屋；小别墅 (初中英语单词)
- collar [´kɔlə] n.衣领；(狗等的)项圈 (初中英语单词)
- trousers [´trauzəz] n.裤子，长裤 (初中英语单词)
- altogether [,ɔ:ltə´geðə] ad.完全；总而言之 (初中英语单词)
- spectacle [´spektəkəl] n.展览；表演；景象 (初中英语单词)
- fright [frait] n.惊吓；恐怖；怪人 (初中英语单词)
- strongly [´strɔŋli] ad.强烈地；强有力地 (初中英语单词)
- wretched [´retʃid] a.可怜的；倒霉的 (初中英语单词)
- cheese [tʃi:z] n.干酪，乳酪 (初中英语单词)
- assembly [ə´sembli] n.集会；装配；与会者 (初中英语单词)
- drawer [drɔ:ə] n.抽屉 (初中英语单词)
- restless [´restləs] a.没有休息的 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- constantly [´kɔnstəntli] ad.经常地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- humble [´hʌmbəl] a.谦卑的 vt.贬抑 (初中英语单词)
- midnight [´midnait] n.午夜；漆黑 (初中英语单词)
- hillside [´hilsaid] n.山腰 (初中英语单词)
- tobacco [tə´bækəu] n.烟草(叶)；卷烟 (初中英语单词)
- reading [´ri:diŋ] n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词)
- platform [´plætfɔ:m] n.(平)台；讲台；站台 (初中英语单词)
- valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
- blossom [´blɔsəm] n.花；开花期 vi.开花 (初中英语单词)
- fisherman [´fiʃəmən] n.渔民，渔夫，打鱼人 (初中英语单词)
- half-way [´hɑ:fwei] ad.半途；几乎 (高中英语单词)
- lantern [´læntən] n.灯笼；提灯 (高中英语单词)
- whoever [hu:´evə] pron.任何人，无论谁 (高中英语单词)
- aeroplane [´eərəplein] n.飞机 (高中英语单词)
- baking [´beikiŋ] n.&a.烘烤(的) (高中英语单词)
- headache [´hedeik] n.头痛；使人头痛的事 (高中英语单词)
- explosion [ik´spləuʒən] n.爆炸；爆发；发作 (高中英语单词)
- decent [´di:sənt] a.体面的，正派的 (高中英语单词)
- subsequent [´sʌbsikwənt] a.其次的；其后的 (高中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- lodging [´lɔdʒiŋ] n.寄宿，住宿 (高中英语单词)
- positively [´pɔzətivli] ad.确实；断然；绝对 (高中英语单词)
- futile [´fju:tail] a.无用的，无益的 (英语四级单词)
- blessed [´blesid] a.享福的；神圣的 (英语四级单词)
- accursed [ə´kə:sid] a.被诅咒的；可憎的 (英语四级单词)
- bodily [´bɔdili] a.身体的 ad.亲自 (英语四级单词)
- starry [´stɑ:ri] a.星光照耀的，闪亮的 (英语四级单词)
- daybreak [´deibreik] n.黎明，拂晓 (英语四级单词)
- midday [´middei] n.中午 (英语四级单词)
- sabbath [´sæbəθ] n.安息日 (英语四级单词)
- cheery [´tʃiəri] a.愉快的；活泼的 (英语四级单词)
- theatrical [θi´ætrikəl] a.戏院的；戏剧(性)的 (英语四级单词)
- junction [´dʒʌŋkʃən] n.连接；交叉点 (英语四级单词)
- birmingham [´bə:miŋhəm] n.伯明翰 (英语四级单词)
- bridge [bridʒ] n.桥(梁)；鼻梁；桥牌 (英语四级单词)
- heather [´heðə] n.石南属植物 (英语六级单词)
- discomfort [dis´kʌmfət] n.不适；不安；困难 (英语六级单词)
- devilish [´devəliʃ] a.魔鬼般的，凶恶的 (英语六级单词)
- outrageous [aut´reidʒəs] a.横蛮的；残暴的 (英语六级单词)
- waistcoat [´weskət, ´weiskəut] n.背心，马甲 (英语六级单词)
- nightfall [´nait,fɔ:l] n.黄昏；傍晚 (英语六级单词)
- malaria [mə´leəriə] n.疟疾 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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