51(y)(7)
用你喜欢的方式阅读你喜欢的小说
汤姆·索亚历险记 - Chapter 30
繁体
恢复默认
返回目录【键盘操作】左右光标键:上下章节;回车键:目录;双击鼠标:停止/启动自动滚动;滚动时上下光标键调节滚动速度。
  AS the earliest suspicion of dawn appeared on Sunday morning, Huck came groping up the hill and rapped gently at the old Welshman's door. The inmates were asleep, but it was a sleep that was set on a hair-trigger, on account of the exciting episode of the night. A call came from a window:"Who's there!"Huck's scared voice answered in a low tone:"please let me in! It's only Huck Finn!""It's a name that can open this door night or day, lad! -- and welcome!"These were strange words to the vagabond boy's ears, and the pleasantest he had ever heard. He could not recollect that the closing word had ever been applied in his case before. The door was quickly unlocked, and he entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and his brace of tall sons speedily dressed themselves."Now, my boy, I hope you're good and hungry, because breakfast will be ready as soon as the sun's up, and we'll have a piping hot one, too -- make yourself easy about that! I and the boys hoped you'd turn up and stop here last night.""I was awful scared," said Huck, "and I run. I took out when the pistols went off, and I didn't stop for three mile. I've come now becuz I wanted to know about it, you know; and I come before daylight becuz I didn't want to run across them devils, even if they was dead.""Well, poor chap, you do look as if you'd had a hard night of it -- but there's a bed here for you when you've had your breakfast. No, they ain't dead, lad -- we are sorry enough for that. You see we knew right where to put our hands on them, by your description; so we crept along on tiptoe till we got within fifteen feet of them -- dark as a cellar that sumach path was -- and just then I found I was going to sneeze. It was the meanest kind of luck! I tried to keep it back, but no use -- 'twas bound to come, and it did come! I was in the lead with my pistol raised, and when the sneeze started those scoundrels a-rustling to get out of the path, I sung out, 'Fire boys!' and blazed away at the place where the rustling was. So did the boys. But they were off in a jiffy, those villains, and we after them, down through the woods. I judge we never touched them. They fired a shot apiece as they started, but their bullets whizzed by and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost the sound of their feet we quit chasing, and went down and stirred up the constables. They got a posse together, and went off to guard the river bank, and as soon as it is light the sheriff and a gang are going to beat up the woods. My boys will be with them presently. I wish we had some sort of description of those rascals -- 'twould help a good deal. But you couldn't see what they were like, in the dark, lad, I suppose?""Oh yes; I saw them down-town and follered them.""Splendid! Describe them -- describe them, my boy!""One's the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that's ben around here once or twice, and t'other's a mean-looking, ragged --""That's enough, lad, we know the men! Happened on them in the woods back of the widow's one day, and they slunk away. Off with you, boys, and tell the sheriff -- get your breakfast to-morrow morning!"The Welshman's sons departed at once. As they were leaving the room Huck sprang up and exclaimed:"Oh, please don't tell ANYbody it was me that blowed on them! Oh, please!""All right if you say it, Huck, but you ought to have the credit of what you did.""Oh no, no! please don't tell!"When the young men were gone, the old Welshman said:"They won't tell -- and I won't. But why don't you want it known?"Huck would not explain, further than to say that he already knew too much about one of those men and would not have the man know that he knew anything against him for the whole world -- he would be killed for knowing it, sure.The old man promised secrecy once more, and said:"How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they looking suspicious?"Huck was silent while he framed a duly cautious reply. Then he said:"Well, you see, I'm a kind of a hard lot, -- least everybody says so, and I don't see nothing agin it -- and sometimes I can't sleep much, on account of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way of doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so I come along up-street 'bout midnight, a-turning it all over, and when I got to that old shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed up agin the wall to have another think. Well, just then along comes these two chaps slipping along close by me, with something under their arm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was a-smoking, and t'other one wanted a light; so they stopped right before me and the cigars lit up their faces and I see that the big one was the deaf and dumb Spaniard, by his white whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t'other one was a rusty, ragged-looking devil.""Could you see the rags by the light of the cigars?"This staggered Huck for a moment. Then he said:"Well, I don't know -- but somehow it seems as if I did.""Then they went on, and you --""Follered 'em -- yes. That was it. I wanted to see what was up -- they sneaked along so. I dogged 'em to the widder's stile, and stood in the dark and heard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the Spaniard swear he'd spile her looks just as I told you and your two --""What! The DEAF AND DUMB man said all that!"Huck had made another terrible mistake! He was trying his best to keep the old man from getting the faintest hint of who the Spaniard might be, and yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into trouble in spite of all he could do. He made several efforts to creep out of his scrape, but the old man's eye was upon him and he made blunder after blunder. presently the Welshman said:"My boy, don't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head for all the world. No -- I'd protect you -- I'd protect you. This Spaniard is not deaf and dumb; you've let that slip without intending it; you can't cover that up now. You know something about that Spaniard that you want to keep dark. Now trust me -- tell me what it is, and trust me -- I won't betray you."Huck looked into the old man's honest eyes a moment, then bent over and whispered in his ear:"'Tain't a Spaniard -- it's Injun Joe!"The Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. In a moment he said:"It's all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears and slitting noses I judged that that was your own embellishment, because white men don't take that sort of revenge. But an Injun! That's a different matter altogether."During breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old man said that the last thing which he and his sons had done, before going to bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity for marks of blood. They found none, but captured a bulky bundle of --"Of WHAT?"If the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a more stunning suddenness from Huck's blanched lips. His eyes were staring wide, now, and his breath suspended -- waiting for the answer. The Welshman started -- stared in return –three seconds -- five seconds -- ten -- then replied:"Of burglar's tools. Why, what's the MATTER with you?"Huck sank back, panting gently, but deeply, unutterably grateful. The Welshman eyed him gravely, curiously -- and presently said:"Yes, burglar's tools. That appears to relieve you a good deal. But what did give you that turn? What were YOU expecting we'd found?"Huck was in a close place -- the inquiring eye was upon him -- he would have given anything for material for a plausible answer -- nothing suggested itself -- the inquiring eye was boring deeper and deeper -- a senseless reply offered -- there was no time to weigh it, so at a venture he uttered it -- feebly:"Sunday-school books, maybe."poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the old man laughed loud and joyously, shook up the details of his anatomy from head to foot, and ended by saying that such a laugh was money in a-man's pocket, because it cut down the doctor's bill like everything. Then he added:"poor old chap, you're white and jaded -- you ain't well a bit -- no wonder you're a little flighty and off your balance. But you'll come out of it. Rest and sleep will fetch you out all right, I hope."Huck was irritated to think he had been such a goose and betrayed such a suspicious excitement, for he had dropped the idea that the parcel brought from the tavern was the treasure, as soon as he had heard the talk at the widow's stile. He had only thought it was not the treasure, however -- he had not known that it wasn't -- and so the suggestion of a captured bundle was too much for his self-possession. But on the whole he felt glad the little episode had happened, for now he knew beyond all question that that bundle was not THE bundle, and so his mind was at rest and exceedingly comfortable. In fact, everything seemed to be drifting just in the right direction, now; the treasure must be still in No. 2, the men would be captured and jailed that day, and he and Tom could seize the gold that night without any trouble or any fear of interruption.Just as breakfast was completed there was a knock at the door. Huck jumped for a hiding-place, for he had no mind to be connected even remotely with the late event. The Welshman admitted several ladies and gentlemen, among them the Widow Douglas, and noticed that groups of citizens were climbing up the hill -- to stare at the stile. So the news had spread. The Welshman had to tell the story of the night to the visitors. The widow's gratitude for her preservation was outspoken."Don't say a word about it, madam. There's another that you're more beholden to than you are to me and my boys, maybe, but he don't allow me to tell his name. We wouldn't have been there but for him."Of course this excited a curiosity so vast that it almost belittled the main matter -- but the Welshman allowed it to eat into the vitals of his visitors, and through them be transmitted to the whole town, for he refused to part with his secret. When all else had been learned, the widow said:"I went to sleep reading in bed and slept straight through all that noise. Why didn't you come and wake me?""We judged it warn't worth while. Those fellows warn't likely to come again -- they hadn't any tools left to work with, and what was the use of waking you up and scaring you to death? My three negro men stood guard at your house all the rest of the night. They've just come back."More visitors came, and the story had to be told and retold for a couple of hours more.There was no Sabbath-school during day-school vacation, but everybody was early at church. The stirring event was well canvassed. News came that not a sign of the two villains had been yet discovered. When the sermon was finished, Judge Thatcher's wife dropped alongside of Mrs. Harper as she moved down the aisle with the crowd and said:"Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just expected she would be tired to death.""Your Becky?""Yes," with a startled look -- "didn't she stay with you last night?""Why, no."Mrs. Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, just as Aunt polly, talking briskly with a friend, passed by. Aunt polly said:"Good-morning, Mrs. Thatcher. Good-morning, Mrs. Harper. I've got a boy that's turned up missing. I reckon my Tom stayed at your house last night -- one of you. And now he's afraid to come to church. I've got to settle with him."Mrs. Thatcher shook her head feebly and turned paler than ever."He didn't stay with us," said Mrs. Harper, beginning to look uneasy. A marked anxiety came into Aunt polly's face."Joe Harper, have you seen my Tom this morning?""No'm.""When did you see him last?"Joe tried to remember, but was not sure he could say. The people had stopped moving out of church. Whispers passed along, and a boding uneasiness took possession of every countenance. Children were anxiously questioned, and young teachers. They all said they had not noticed whether Tom and Becky were on board the ferryboat on the homeward trip; it was dark; no one thought of inquiring if any one was missing. One young man finally blurted out his fear that they were still in the cave! Mrs. Thatcher swooned away. Aunt polly fell to crying and wringing her hands.The alarm swept from lip to lip, from group to group, from street to street, and within five minutes the bells were wildly clanging and the whole town was up! The Cardiff Hill episode sank into instant insignificance, the burglars were forgotten, horses were saddled, skiffs were manned, the ferryboat ordered out, and before the horror was half an hour old, two hundred men were pouring down highroad and river toward the cave.All the long afternoon the village seemed empty and dead. Many women visited Aunt polly and Mrs. Thatcher and tried to comfort them. They cried with them, too, and that was still better than words. All the tedious night the town waited for news; but when the morning dawned at last, all the word that came was, "Send more candles -- and send food." Mrs. Thatcher was almost crazed; and Aunt polly, also. Judge Thatcher sent messages of hope and encouragement from the cave, but they conveyed no real cheer.The old Welshman came home toward daylight, spattered with candle-grease, smeared with clay, and almost worn out. He found Huck still in the bed that had been provided for him, and delirious with fever. The physicians were all at the cave, so the Widow Douglas came and took charge of the patient. She said she would do her best by him, because, whether he was good, bad, or indifferent, he was the Lord's, and nothing that was the Lord's was a thing to be neglected. The Welshman said Huck had good spots in him, and the widow said:"You can depend on it. That's the Lord's mark. He don't leave it off. He never does. puts it somewhere on every creature that comes from his hands."Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began to straggle into the village, but the strongest of the citizens continued searching. All the news that could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern were being ransacked that had never been visited before; that every corner and crevice was going to be thoroughly searched; that wherever one wandered through the maze of passages, lights were to be seen flitting hither and thither in the distance, and shoutings and pistol-shots sent their hollow reverberations to the ear down the sombre aisles. In one place, far from the section usually traversed by tourists, the names "BECKY & TOM" had been found traced upon the rocky wall with candle-smoke, and near at hand a grease-soiled bit of ribbon. Mrs. Thatcher recognized the ribbon and cried over it. She said it was the last relic she should ever have of her child; and that no other memorial of her could ever be so precious, because this one parted latest from the living body before the awful death came. Some said that now and then, in the cave, a far-away speck of light would glimmer, and then a glorious shout would burst forth and a score of men go trooping down the echoing aisle -- and then a sickening disappointment always followed; the children were not there; it was only a searcher's light.Three dreadful days and nights dragged their tedious hours along, and the village sank into a hopeless stupor. No one had heart for anything. The accidental discovery, just made, that the proprietor of the Temperance Tavern kept liquor on his premises, scarcely fluttered the public pulse, tremendous as the fact was. In a lucid interval, Huck feebly led up to the subject of taverns, and finally asked -- dimly dreading the worst -- if anything had been discovered at the Temperance Tavern since he had been ill."Yes," said the widow.Huck started up in bed, wild-eyed:"What? What was it?""Liquor! -- and the place has been shut up. Lie down, child -- what a turn you did give me!""Only tell me just one thing -- only just one -- please! Was it Tom Sawyer that found it?"The widow burst into tears. "Hush, hush, child, hush! I've told you before, you must not talk. You are very, very sick!"Then nothing but liquor had been found; there would have been a great powwow if it had been the gold. So the treasure was gone forever -- gone forever! But what could she be crying about? Curious that she should cry.These thoughts worked their dim way through Huck's mind, and under the weariness they gave him he fell asleep. The widow said to herself:"There -- he's asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer find it! pity but somebody could find Tom Sawyer! Ah, there ain't many left, now, that's got hope enough, or strength enough, either, to go on searching."
或许您还会喜欢:
我是猫
作者:佚名
章节:23 人气:0
摘要:夏目漱石,日本近代作家,生于江户的牛迂马场下横町(今东京都新宿区喜久井町)一个小吏家庭,是家中末子。夏目漱石在日本近代文学史上享有很高的地位,被称为“国民大作家”。代表作有《过了春分时节》《行人》《心》三部曲。 [点击阅读]
我的名字叫红
作者:佚名
章节:58 人气:0
摘要:如今我已是一个死人,成了一具躺在井底的死尸。尽管我已经死了很久,心脏也早已停止了跳动,但除了那个卑鄙的凶手之外没人知道我发生了什么事。而他,那个混蛋,则听了听我是否还有呼吸,摸了摸我的脉搏以确信他是否已把我干掉,之后又朝我的肚子踹了一脚,把我扛到井边,搬起我的身子扔了下去。往下落时,我先前被他用石头砸烂了的脑袋摔裂开来;我的脸、我的额头和脸颊全都挤烂没了;我全身的骨头都散架了,满嘴都是鲜血。 [点击阅读]
我的爸爸是吸血鬼
作者:佚名
章节:81 人气:0
摘要:序幕那是萨瓦纳的一个凉爽春夜,我的母亲走在石子路上,木屐像马蹄似的敲得鹅卵石哒哒响。她穿过一片盛开的杜鹃,再穿过铁兰掩映下的小橡树丛,来到一片绿色空地,边上有一个咖啡馆。我父亲在铁桌旁的一张凳子上坐着,桌上摊了两个棋盘,父亲出了一个车,仰头瞥见了我母亲,手不小心碰到了一个兵,棋子倒在桌面,滑下来,滚到一旁的走道上去了。母亲弯下身子,捡起棋子交还给他。 [点击阅读]
战争与和平
作者:佚名
章节:361 人气:0
摘要:“啊,公爵,热那亚和卢加现在是波拿巴家族的领地,不过,我得事先对您说,如果您不对我说我们这里处于战争状态,如果您还敢袒护这个基督的敌人(我确乎相信,他是一个基督的敌人)的种种卑劣行径和他一手造成的灾祸,那么我就不再管您了。您就不再是我的朋友,您就不再是,如您所说的,我的忠实的奴隶。啊,您好,您好。我看我正在吓唬您了,请坐,讲给我听。 [点击阅读]
户隐传说杀人事件
作者:佚名
章节:10 人气:0
摘要:没有想到拉动门栓时竟然发出惊人的响声,令男子吓了一大跳,好在风声掩去了这一声响,没有惊动房间里的人。从太阳落山的时候起就起风了。风儿摇动着树林里粗壮的树枝。整座山峦开始呼啸,呼啸声掠过屋子的屋顶。已经到了11月的月底,天空却刮起了在这季节里不可能出现的南风。据村子里的老人说,现在这个时候刮这样的风,不是一个好兆头。但愿这不是出事的征兆。对男子来说,就是靠着这风声,才使他在拉动门栓时没有被人发现。 [点击阅读]
手机
作者:佚名
章节:35 人气:0
摘要:“脉冲”事件发生于十月一日下午东部标准时间三点零三分。这个名称显然不当,但在事情发生后的十小时内,大多数能够指出这个错误的科学家们要么死亡要么疯癫。无论如何,名称其实并不重要,重要的是影响。那天下午三点,一位籍籍无名的年轻人正意气风发地在波士顿的波伊斯顿大街上往东走。他名叫克雷顿·里德尔,脸上一副心满意足的样子,步伐也特别矫健。他左手提着一个艺术家的画夹,关上再拉上拉链就成了一个旅行箱。 [点击阅读]
拇指一竖
作者:佚名
章节:17 人气:0
摘要:贝瑞福夫妇对坐在早餐桌前,他们和普通的夫妇没什么不同,这时候,全英格兰至少有好几百对像他们这样上了年纪的夫妻正在吃早餐,这一天,也是个很普通的日子——一星期七天之中,至少有五个这样的日子。天空阴沉沉的,看起来像是会下雨,不过谁也没把握。 [点击阅读]
拉贝日记
作者:佚名
章节:32 人气:0
摘要:胡绳60年前,侵华日军制造的南京大屠杀惨案,是日本法西斯在中国所犯严重罪行之一,是中国现代史上极其惨痛的一页。虽然日本当时当权者和以后当权者中的许多人竭力否认有这样的惨案,企图隐瞒事实真相,但事实就是事实,不断有身经这个惨案的人(包括当时的日本军人)提供了揭露惨案真相的材料。最近,江苏人民出版社和江苏教育出版社共同翻译出版了《拉贝日记》。 [点击阅读]
挪威的森林
作者:佚名
章节:20 人气:0
摘要:编者语我们为什么选择村上春树?不是因为他连获日本文艺界的奖项:也不是因为他的作品高居日本畅销书榜首:更不是因为他的作品掀起年轻一代的抢购热潮,突破四百万部的销量!那么,为什么?答案是:他和他的作品带给我们思想的特异空间,而轻描淡写的日常生活片断唤起的生活气氛令我们有所共鸣。更重要的是他以六十年代的背景道出九十年代,甚至世世代代的年轻心声。 [点击阅读]
推销员之死
作者:佚名
章节:22 人气:0
摘要:前言阿瑟·米勒,美国剧作家,1915年出生在纽约一个犹太人中产阶级家庭,父亲是一个时装商人,他在哈莱姆上小学,布鲁克林上中学,中学毕业以后工作了两年,后来进入密执根大学,大学期间开始戏剧创作,写了4部剧本,并两次获奖。他第一部在百老汇上演的剧作是《鸿运高照的人》(1944),成名作是1947年创作的《全是我的儿子》,作品获当年度的纽约剧评界奖。 [点击阅读]