章节正文
this experience, and aye the swat ran upon the man.
It chanced, ye see, that Tam keeked up, and he was awaur of a muckle
solan, and the solan pyking at the line. He thocht this by-ordinar and
outside the creature's habits. He minded that ropes was unco saft
things, and the solan's neb and the Bass Rock unco hard, and that twa
hunner feet were raither mair than he would care to fa'.
"Shoo!" says Tam. "Awa', bird! Shoo, awa' wi' ye!" says he.
The solan keekit doon into Tam's face, and there was something unco in
the creature's ee. Just the ae keek it gied, and back to the rope.
But now it wroucht and warstl't like a thing dementit. There never was
the solan made that wroucht as that solan wroucht; and it seemed to
understand its employ brawly, birzing the saft rope between the neb of
it and a crunkled jag o' stane.
There gaed a cauld stend o' fear into Tam's heart. "This thing is nae
bird," thinks he. His een turnt backward in his heid and the day gaed
black aboot him. "If I get a dwam here," he toucht, "it's by wi' Tam
Dale." And he signalled for the lads to pu' him up.
And it seemed the solan understood about signals. For nae sooner was
the signal made than he let be the rope, spried his wings, squawked out
loud, took a turn flying, and dashed straucht at Tam Dale's een. Tam
had a knife, he gart the cauld steel glitter. And it seemed the solan
understood about knives, for nae suner did the steel glint in the sun
than he gied the ae squawk, but laighter, like a body disappointit, and
flegged aff about the roundness of the craig, and Tam saw him nae mair.
And as sune as that thing was gane, Tam's heid drapt upon his shouther,
and they pu'd him up like a deid corp, dadding on the craig.
A dram of brandy (which he went never without) broucht him to his mind,
or what was left of it. Up he sat.
"Rin, Geordie, rin to the boat, mak' sure of the boat, man - rin!" he
cries, "or yon solan'll have it awa'," says he.
The fower lads stared at ither, an' tried to whilly-wha him to be
quiet. But naething would satisfy Tam Dale, till ane o' them had
startit on aheid to stand sentry on the boat. The ithers askit if he
was for down again.
"Na," says he, "and niether you nor me," says he, "and as sune as I can
win to stand on my twa feet we'll be aff frae this craig o' Sawtan."
Sure eneuch, nae time was lost, and that was ower muckle; for before
they won to North Berwick Tam was in a crying fever. He lay a' the
simmer; and wha was sae kind as come speiring for him, but Tod Lapraik!
Folk thocht afterwards that ilka time Tod cam near the house the fever
had worsened. I kenna for that; but what I ken the best, that was the
end of it.
It was about this time o' the year; my grandfaither was out at the
white fishing; and like a bairn, I but to gang wi' him. We had a grand
take, I mind, and the way that the fish lay broucht us near in by the
Bass, whaur we foregaithered wi' anither boat that belanged to a man
Sandie Fletcher in Castleton. He's no lang deid neither, or ye could
speir at himsel'. Weel, Sandie hailed.
"What's yon on the Bass?" says he.
"On the Bass?" says grandfaither.
"Ay," says Sandie, "on the green side o't."
"Whatten kind of a thing?" says grandfaither. "There cannae be
naething on the Bass but just the sheep."
"It looks unco like a body," quo' Sandie, who was nearer in.
"A body!" says we, and we none of us likit that. For there was nae
boat that could have brought a man, and the key o' the prison yett hung
ower my faither's at hame in the press bed.
We keept the twa boats close for company, and crap in nearer hand.
Grandfaither had a gless, for he had been a sailor, and the captain of
a smack, and had lost her on the sands of Tay. And when we took the
glass to it, sure eneuch there was a man. He was in a crunkle o' green
brae, a wee below the chaipel, a' by his lee lane, and lowped and flang
and danced like a daft quean at a waddin'.
"It's Tod," says grandfather, and passed the gless to Sandie.
"Ay, it's him," says Sandie.
"Or ane in the likeness o' him," says grandfaither.
"Sma' is the differ," quo' Sandie. "De'il or warlock, I'll try the gun
at him," quo' he, and broucht up a fowling-piece that he aye carried,
for Sandie was a notable famous shot in all that country.
"Haud your hand, Sandie," says grandfaither; "we maun see clearer
first," says he, "or this may be a dear day's wark to the baith of us."
"Hout!" says Sandie, "this is the Lord's judgment surely, and be damned
to it," says he.
"Maybe ay, and maybe no," says my grandfaither, worthy man! "But have
you a mind of the Procurator Fiscal, that I think ye'll have
foregaithered wi' before," says he.
This was ower true, and Sandie was a wee thing set ajee. "Aweel,
Edie," says he, "and what would be your way of it?"
"Ou, just this," says grandfaither. "Let me that has the fastest boat
gang back to North Berwick, and let you bide here and keep an eye on
Thon. If I cannae find Lapraik, I'll join ye and the twa of us'll have
a crack wi' him. But if Lapraik's at hame, I'll rin up the flag at the
harbour, and ye can try Thon Thing wi' the gun."
Aweel, so it was agreed between them twa. I was just a bairn, an' clum
in Sandie's boat, whaur I thoucht I would see the best of the employ.
My grandsire gied Sandie a siller tester to pit in his gun wi' the leid
draps, bein mair deidly again bogles. And then the as boat set aff for
North Berwick, an' the tither lay whaur it was and watched the
wanchancy thing on the brae-side.
A' the time we lay there it lowped and flang and capered and span like
a teetotum, and whiles we could hear it skelloch as it span. I hae
seen lassies, the daft queans, that would lowp and dance a winter's
nicht, and still be lowping and dancing when the winter's day cam in.
But there would be fowk there to hauld them company, and the lads to
egg them on; and this thing was its lee-lane. And there would be a
fiddler diddling his elbock in the chimney-side; and this thing had nae
music but the skirling of the solans. And the lassies were bits o'
young things wi' the reid life dinnling and stending in their members;
and this was a muckle, fat, creishy man, and him fa'n in the vale o'
years. Say what ye like, I maun say what I believe. It was joy was in
the creature's heart, the joy o' hell, I daursay: joy whatever. Mony
a time I have askit mysel' why witches and warlocks should sell their
sauls (whilk are their maist dear possessions) and be auld, duddy,
wrunkl't wives or auld, feckless, doddered men; and then I mind upon
Tod Lapraik dancing a' the hours by his lane in the black glory of his
heart. Nae doubt they burn for it muckle in hell, but they have a
grand time here of it, whatever! - and the Lord forgie us!
Weel, at the hinder end, we saw the wee flag yirk up to the mast-heid
upon the harbour rocks. That was a' Sandie waited for. He up wi' the
gun, took a deleeberate aim, an' pu'd the trigger. There cam' a bang
and then ae waefu' skirl frae the Bass. And there were we rubbin' our
een and lookin' at ither like daft folk. For wi' the bang and the
skirl the thing had clean disappeared. The sun glintit, the wund blew,
and there was the bare yaird whaur the Wonder had been lowping and
flinging but ae second syne.
The hale way hame I roared and grat wi' the terror o' that
dispensation. The grawn folk were nane sae muckle better; there was
little said in Sandie's boat but just the name of God; and when we won
in by the pier, the harbour rocks were fair black wi' the folk waitin'
us. It seems they had fund Lapraik in ane of his dwams, cawing the
shuttle and smiling. Ae lad they sent to hoist the flag, and the rest
abode there in the wabster's house. You may be sure they liked it
little; but it was a means of grace to severals that stood there
praying in to themsel's (for nane cared to pray out loud) and looking
on thon awesome thing as it cawed the shuttle. Syne, upon a suddenty,
and wi' the ae dreidfu' skelloch, Tod sprang up frae his hinderlands
and fell forrit on the wab, a bluidy corp.
When the corp was examined the leid draps hadnae played buff upon the
warlock's body; sorrow a leid drap was to be fund! but there was
grandfaither's siller tester in the puddock's heart of him.
Andie had scarce done when there befell a mighty silly affair that had
its consequence. Neil, as I have said, was himself a great narrator.
I have heard since that he knew all the stories in the Highlands; and
thought much of himself, and was thought much of by others on the
strength of it. Now Andie's tale reminded him of one he had already
heard.
"She would ken that story afore," he said. "She was the story of
Uistean More M'Gillie Phadrig and the Gavar Vore."
"It is no sic a thing," cried Andie. "It is the story of my faither
(now wi' God) and Tod Lapraik. And the same in your beard," says he;
"and keep the tongue of ye inside your Hielant chafts!"
In dealing with Highlanders it will be found, and has been shown in
history, how well it goes with Lowland gentlefolk; but the thing
appears scarcefeasible for Lowland commons. I had already remarked
that Andie was continually on the point of quarrelling with our three
MacGregors, and now, sure enough, it was to come.
"Thir will be no words to use to shentlemans," says Neil.
"Shentlemans!" cries Andie. "Shentlemans, ye hielant stot! If God
would give ye the grace to see yoursel' the way that ithers see ye, ye
would throw your denner up."
There came some kind of a Gaelic oath from Neil, and the black knife
was in his hand that moment.
There was no time to think; and I caught the Highlander by the leg, and
had him down, and his armed hand pinned out, before I knew what I was
doing. His comrades sprang to rescue him, Andie and I were without
weapons, the Gregara three to two. It seemed we were beyond salvation,
when Neil screamed in his own tongue, ordering the others back, and
made his submission to myself in a manner the most abject, even giving
me up his knife which (upon a repetition of his promises) I returned to
him on the morrow.
Two things I saw plain: the first, that I must not build too high on
Andie, who had shrunk against the wall and stood there, as pale as
death, till the affair was over; the second, the strength of my own
position with the Highlanders, who must have received extraordinary
charges to be tender of my safety. But if I thought Andie came not
very well out in courage, I had no fault to find with him upon the
account of gratitude. It was not so much that he troubled me with
thanks, as that his whole mind and manner appeared changed; and as he
preserved ever after a great timidity of our companions, he and I were
yet more constantly together.
CHAPTER XVI - THE MISSING WITNESS
ON the seventeenth, the day I was trysted with the Writer, I had much
rebellion against fate. The thought of him waiting in the KING'S ARMS,
and of what he would think, and what he would say when next we met,
tormented and oppressed me. The truth was unbelievable, so much I had
to grant, and it seemed cruel hard I should be posted as a liar and a
coward, and have never consciously omitted what it was possible that I
should do. I repeated this form of words with a kind of bitter relish,
and re-examined in that light the steps of my behaviour. It seemed I
had behaved to James Stewart as a brother might; all the past was a
picture that I could be proud of, and there was only the present to
consider. I could not swim the sea, nor yet fly in the air, but there
was always Andie. I had done him a service, he liked me; I had a lever
there to work on; if it were just for decency, I must try once more
with Andie.
It was late afternoon; there was no sound in all the Bass but the lap
and bubble of a very quiet sea; and my four companions were all crept
apart, the three Macgregors higher on the rock, and Andie with his
Bible to a sunny place among the ruins; there I found him in deep
sleep, and, as soon as he was awake, appealed to him with some fervour
of manner and a good show of argument.
"If I thoucht it was to do guid to ye, Shaws!" said he, staring at me
over his spectacles.
"It's to save another," said I, "and to redeem my word. What would be
more good than that? Do ye no mind the scripture, Andie? And you with
the Book upon your lap! WHAT SHALL IT PROFIT A MAN IF HE GAIN THE
WHOLE WORLD?"
"Ay," said he, "that's grand for you. But where do I come in! I have
my word to redeem the same's yoursel'. And what are ye asking me to
do, but just to sell it ye for siller?"
"Andie! have I named the name of siller?" cried I.
It chanced, ye see, that Tam keeked up, and he was awaur of a muckle
solan, and the solan pyking at the line. He thocht this by-ordinar and
outside the creature's habits. He minded that ropes was unco saft
things, and the solan's neb and the Bass Rock unco hard, and that twa
hunner feet were raither mair than he would care to fa'.
"Shoo!" says Tam. "Awa', bird! Shoo, awa' wi' ye!" says he.
The solan keekit doon into Tam's face, and there was something unco in
the creature's ee. Just the ae keek it gied, and back to the rope.
But now it wroucht and warstl't like a thing dementit. There never was
the solan made that wroucht as that solan wroucht; and it seemed to
understand its employ brawly, birzing the saft rope between the neb of
it and a crunkled jag o' stane.
There gaed a cauld stend o' fear into Tam's heart. "This thing is nae
bird," thinks he. His een turnt backward in his heid and the day gaed
black aboot him. "If I get a dwam here," he toucht, "it's by wi' Tam
Dale." And he signalled for the lads to pu' him up.
And it seemed the solan understood about signals. For nae sooner was
the signal made than he let be the rope, spried his wings, squawked out
loud, took a turn flying, and dashed straucht at Tam Dale's een. Tam
had a knife, he gart the cauld steel glitter. And it seemed the solan
understood about knives, for nae suner did the steel glint in the sun
than he gied the ae squawk, but laighter, like a body disappointit, and
flegged aff about the roundness of the craig, and Tam saw him nae mair.
And as sune as that thing was gane, Tam's heid drapt upon his shouther,
and they pu'd him up like a deid corp, dadding on the craig.
A dram of brandy (which he went never without) broucht him to his mind,
or what was left of it. Up he sat.
"Rin, Geordie, rin to the boat, mak' sure of the boat, man - rin!" he
cries, "or yon solan'll have it awa'," says he.
The fower lads stared at ither, an' tried to whilly-wha him to be
quiet. But naething would satisfy Tam Dale, till ane o' them had
startit on aheid to stand sentry on the boat. The ithers askit if he
was for down again.
"Na," says he, "and niether you nor me," says he, "and as sune as I can
win to stand on my twa feet we'll be aff frae this craig o' Sawtan."
Sure eneuch, nae time was lost, and that was ower muckle; for before
they won to North Berwick Tam was in a crying fever. He lay a' the
simmer; and wha was sae kind as come speiring for him, but Tod Lapraik!
Folk thocht afterwards that ilka time Tod cam near the house the fever
had worsened. I kenna for that; but what I ken the best, that was the
end of it.
It was about this time o' the year; my grandfaither was out at the
white fishing; and like a bairn, I but to gang wi' him. We had a grand
take, I mind, and the way that the fish lay broucht us near in by the
Bass, whaur we foregaithered wi' anither boat that belanged to a man
Sandie Fletcher in Castleton. He's no lang deid neither, or ye could
speir at himsel'. Weel, Sandie hailed.
"What's yon on the Bass?" says he.
"On the Bass?" says grandfaither.
"Ay," says Sandie, "on the green side o't."
"Whatten kind of a thing?" says grandfaither. "There cannae be
naething on the Bass but just the sheep."
"It looks unco like a body," quo' Sandie, who was nearer in.
"A body!" says we, and we none of us likit that. For there was nae
boat that could have brought a man, and the key o' the prison yett hung
ower my faither's at hame in the press bed.
We keept the twa boats close for company, and crap in nearer hand.
Grandfaither had a gless, for he had been a sailor, and the captain of
a smack, and had lost her on the sands of Tay. And when we took the
glass to it, sure eneuch there was a man. He was in a crunkle o' green
brae, a wee below the chaipel, a' by his lee lane, and lowped and flang
and danced like a daft quean at a waddin'.
"It's Tod," says grandfather, and passed the gless to Sandie.
"Ay, it's him," says Sandie.
"Or ane in the likeness o' him," says grandfaither.
"Sma' is the differ," quo' Sandie. "De'il or warlock, I'll try the gun
at him," quo' he, and broucht up a fowling-piece that he aye carried,
for Sandie was a notable famous shot in all that country.
"Haud your hand, Sandie," says grandfaither; "we maun see clearer
first," says he, "or this may be a dear day's wark to the baith of us."
"Hout!" says Sandie, "this is the Lord's judgment surely, and be damned
to it," says he.
"Maybe ay, and maybe no," says my grandfaither, worthy man! "But have
you a mind of the Procurator Fiscal, that I think ye'll have
foregaithered wi' before," says he.
This was ower true, and Sandie was a wee thing set ajee. "Aweel,
Edie," says he, "and what would be your way of it?"
"Ou, just this," says grandfaither. "Let me that has the fastest boat
gang back to North Berwick, and let you bide here and keep an eye on
Thon. If I cannae find Lapraik, I'll join ye and the twa of us'll have
a crack wi' him. But if Lapraik's at hame, I'll rin up the flag at the
harbour, and ye can try Thon Thing wi' the gun."
Aweel, so it was agreed between them twa. I was just a bairn, an' clum
in Sandie's boat, whaur I thoucht I would see the best of the employ.
My grandsire gied Sandie a siller tester to pit in his gun wi' the leid
draps, bein mair deidly again bogles. And then the as boat set aff for
North Berwick, an' the tither lay whaur it was and watched the
wanchancy thing on the brae-side.
A' the time we lay there it lowped and flang and capered and span like
a teetotum, and whiles we could hear it skelloch as it span. I hae
seen lassies, the daft queans, that would lowp and dance a winter's
nicht, and still be lowping and dancing when the winter's day cam in.
But there would be fowk there to hauld them company, and the lads to
egg them on; and this thing was its lee-lane. And there would be a
fiddler diddling his elbock in the chimney-side; and this thing had nae
music but the skirling of the solans. And the lassies were bits o'
young things wi' the reid life dinnling and stending in their members;
and this was a muckle, fat, creishy man, and him fa'n in the vale o'
years. Say what ye like, I maun say what I believe. It was joy was in
the creature's heart, the joy o' hell, I daursay: joy whatever. Mony
a time I have askit mysel' why witches and warlocks should sell their
sauls (whilk are their maist dear possessions) and be auld, duddy,
wrunkl't wives or auld, feckless, doddered men; and then I mind upon
Tod Lapraik dancing a' the hours by his lane in the black glory of his
heart. Nae doubt they burn for it muckle in hell, but they have a
grand time here of it, whatever! - and the Lord forgie us!
Weel, at the hinder end, we saw the wee flag yirk up to the mast-heid
upon the harbour rocks. That was a' Sandie waited for. He up wi' the
gun, took a deleeberate aim, an' pu'd the trigger. There cam' a bang
and then ae waefu' skirl frae the Bass. And there were we rubbin' our
een and lookin' at ither like daft folk. For wi' the bang and the
skirl the thing had clean disappeared. The sun glintit, the wund blew,
and there was the bare yaird whaur the Wonder had been lowping and
flinging but ae second syne.
The hale way hame I roared and grat wi' the terror o' that
dispensation. The grawn folk were nane sae muckle better; there was
little said in Sandie's boat but just the name of God; and when we won
in by the pier, the harbour rocks were fair black wi' the folk waitin'
us. It seems they had fund Lapraik in ane of his dwams, cawing the
shuttle and smiling. Ae lad they sent to hoist the flag, and the rest
abode there in the wabster's house. You may be sure they liked it
little; but it was a means of grace to severals that stood there
praying in to themsel's (for nane cared to pray out loud) and looking
on thon awesome thing as it cawed the shuttle. Syne, upon a suddenty,
and wi' the ae dreidfu' skelloch, Tod sprang up frae his hinderlands
and fell forrit on the wab, a bluidy corp.
When the corp was examined the leid draps hadnae played buff upon the
warlock's body; sorrow a leid drap was to be fund! but there was
grandfaither's siller tester in the puddock's heart of him.
Andie had scarce done when there befell a mighty silly affair that had
its consequence. Neil, as I have said, was himself a great narrator.
I have heard since that he knew all the stories in the Highlands; and
thought much of himself, and was thought much of by others on the
strength of it. Now Andie's tale reminded him of one he had already
heard.
"She would ken that story afore," he said. "She was the story of
Uistean More M'Gillie Phadrig and the Gavar Vore."
"It is no sic a thing," cried Andie. "It is the story of my faither
(now wi' God) and Tod Lapraik. And the same in your beard," says he;
"and keep the tongue of ye inside your Hielant chafts!"
In dealing with Highlanders it will be found, and has been shown in
history, how well it goes with Lowland gentlefolk; but the thing
appears scarcefeasible for Lowland commons. I had already remarked
that Andie was continually on the point of quarrelling with our three
MacGregors, and now, sure enough, it was to come.
"Thir will be no words to use to shentlemans," says Neil.
"Shentlemans!" cries Andie. "Shentlemans, ye hielant stot! If God
would give ye the grace to see yoursel' the way that ithers see ye, ye
would throw your denner up."
There came some kind of a Gaelic oath from Neil, and the black knife
was in his hand that moment.
There was no time to think; and I caught the Highlander by the leg, and
had him down, and his armed hand pinned out, before I knew what I was
doing. His comrades sprang to rescue him, Andie and I were without
weapons, the Gregara three to two. It seemed we were beyond salvation,
when Neil screamed in his own tongue, ordering the others back, and
made his submission to myself in a manner the most abject, even giving
me up his knife which (upon a repetition of his promises) I returned to
him on the morrow.
Two things I saw plain: the first, that I must not build too high on
Andie, who had shrunk against the wall and stood there, as pale as
death, till the affair was over; the second, the strength of my own
position with the Highlanders, who must have received extraordinary
charges to be tender of my safety. But if I thought Andie came not
very well out in courage, I had no fault to find with him upon the
account of gratitude. It was not so much that he troubled me with
thanks, as that his whole mind and manner appeared changed; and as he
preserved ever after a great timidity of our companions, he and I were
yet more constantly together.
CHAPTER XVI - THE MISSING WITNESS
ON the seventeenth, the day I was trysted with the Writer, I had much
rebellion against fate. The thought of him waiting in the KING'S ARMS,
and of what he would think, and what he would say when next we met,
tormented and oppressed me. The truth was unbelievable, so much I had
to grant, and it seemed cruel hard I should be posted as a liar and a
coward, and have never consciously omitted what it was possible that I
should do. I repeated this form of words with a kind of bitter relish,
and re-examined in that light the steps of my behaviour. It seemed I
had behaved to James Stewart as a brother might; all the past was a
picture that I could be proud of, and there was only the present to
consider. I could not swim the sea, nor yet fly in the air, but there
was always Andie. I had done him a service, he liked me; I had a lever
there to work on; if it were just for decency, I must try once more
with Andie.
It was late afternoon; there was no sound in all the Bass but the lap
and bubble of a very quiet sea; and my four companions were all crept
apart, the three Macgregors higher on the rock, and Andie with his
Bible to a sunny place among the ruins; there I found him in deep
sleep, and, as soon as he was awake, appealed to him with some fervour
of manner and a good show of argument.
"If I thoucht it was to do guid to ye, Shaws!" said he, staring at me
over his spectacles.
"It's to save another," said I, "and to redeem my word. What would be
more good than that? Do ye no mind the scripture, Andie? And you with
the Book upon your lap! WHAT SHALL IT PROFIT A MAN IF HE GAIN THE
WHOLE WORLD?"
"Ay," said he, "that's grand for you. But where do I come in! I have
my word to redeem the same's yoursel'. And what are ye asking me to
do, but just to sell it ye for siller?"
"Andie! have I named the name of siller?" cried I.
- backward [´bækwəd]
ad.向后 a.向后的 (初中英语单词) - glitter [´glitə] n.光辉 vi.闪烁，炫耀 (初中英语单词)
- grandfather [´grænd,fɑ:ðə] n.(外)祖父；祖先 (初中英语单词)
- worthy [´wə:ði] a.有价值的；值得的 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- terror [´terə] n.恐怖；惊骇 (初中英语单词)
- sprang [spræŋ] spring 的过去式 (初中英语单词)
- scarce [skeəs, skers] a.缺乏的；稀有的 (初中英语单词)
- consequence [´kɔnsikwəns] n.结果；后果；推断 (初中英语单词)
- rescue [´reskju:] vt.&n.救援；挽救 (初中英语单词)
- gratitude [´grætitju:d] n.感激，感谢 (初中英语单词)
- constantly [´kɔnstəntli] ad.经常地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- missing [´misiŋ] a.缺掉的；失踪的 (初中英语单词)
- writer [´raitə] n.作者；作家 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- bubble [´bʌbəl] n.水泡 vi.冒泡；沸腾 (初中英语单词)
- likeness [´laiknis] n.相似；肖像；外表 (高中英语单词)
- notable [´nəutəbəl] a.显著的 n.名人 (高中英语单词)
- hinder [´hində, ´haində] vt.阻止 a.后面的 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- dealing [´di:liŋ] n.交易；来往 (高中英语单词)
- lowland [´ləulənd] n.&a.低地(的) (高中英语单词)
- continually [kən´tinjuəli] ad.不断地，频繁地 (高中英语单词)
- repetition [,repi´tiʃən] n.重复；背诵；复制品 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- redeem [ri´di:m] vt.买回；偿还；履行 (高中英语单词)
- knives [naivz] knife的复数 (英语四级单词)
- brandy [´brændi] n.白兰地酒 (英语四级单词)
- fishing [´fiʃiŋ] n.钓鱼；捕鱼；渔业 (英语四级单词)
- befell [bi´fel] befall的过去式 (英语四级单词)
- submission [səb´miʃən] n.屈服；谦恭 (英语四级单词)
- scripture [´skriptʃə] n.手稿；文件；经典 (英语四级单词)
- minded [´maindid] a.有...心的 (英语六级单词)
- sentry [´sentri] n.哨兵 v.站岗，放哨 (英语六级单词)
- fiscal [´fiskəl] a.财政的 (英语六级单词)
- grandsire [´grændsaiə] n.老人；祖先 (英语六级单词)
- trigger [´trigə] n.扳机 vt.触发，启动 (英语六级单词)
- feasible [´fi:zibəl] a.可行的，可实行的 (英语六级单词)
- abject [´æbdʒekt] a.卑鄙的；可怜的 (英语六级单词)
- decency [´di:sənsi] n.正派；体面 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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