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 11
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。
  CLOSE upon the hour of noon the whole village was suddenly electrified with the ghastly news. No need of the as yet undreamed-of telegraph; the tale flew from man to man, from group to group, from house to house, with little less than telegraphic speed. Of course the schoolmaster gave holiday for that afternoon; the town would have thought strangely of him if he had not.A gory knife had been found close to the murdered man, and it had been recognized by somebody as belonging to Muff potter -- so the story ran. And it was said that a belated citizen had come upon potter washing himself in the "branch" about one or two o'clock in the morning, and that potter had at once sneaked off -- suspicious circumstances, especially the washing which was not a habit with potter. It was also said that the town had been ransacked for this "murderer" (the public are not slow in the matter of sifting evidence and arriving at a verdict), but that he could not be found. Horsemen had departed down all the roads in every direction, and the Sheriff "was confident" that he would be captured before night.All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. Tom's heartbreak vanished and he joined the procession, not because he would not a thousand times rather go anywhere else, but because an awful, unaccountable fascination drew him on. Arrived at the dreadful place, he wormed his small body through the crowd and saw the dismal spectacle. It seemed to him an age since he was there before. Somebody pinched his arm. He turned, and his eyes met Huckleberry's. Then both looked elsewhere at once, and wondered if anybody had noticed anything in their mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon the grisly spectacle before them."poor fellow!" "poor young fellow!" "This ought to be a lesson to grave robbers!" "Muff potter'll hang for this if they catch him!" This was the drift of remark; and the minister said, "It was a judgment; His hand is here."Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his eye fell upon the stolid face of Injun Joe. At this moment the crowd began to sway and struggle, and voices shouted, "It's him! it's him! he's coming himself!""Who? Who?" from twenty voices."Muff potter!""Hallo, he's stopped! -- Look out, he's turning! Don't let him get away!"people in the branches of the trees over Tom's head said he wasn't trying to get away -- he only looked doubtful and perplexed."Infernal impudence!" said a bystander; "wanted to come and take a quiet look at his work, I reckon -- didn't expect any company."The crowd fell apart, now, and the Sheriff came through, ostentatiously leading potter by the arm. The poor fellow's face was haggard, and his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood before the murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his face in his hands and burst into tears."I didn't do it, friends," he sobbed; "'pon my word and honor I never done it.""Who's accused you?" shouted a voice.This shot seemed to carry home. potter lifted his face and looked around him with a pathetic hopelessness in his eyes. He saw Injun Joe, and exclaimed:"Oh, Injun Joe, you promised me you'd never --""Is that your knife?" and it was thrust before him by the Sheriff.potter would have fallen if they had not caught him and eased him to the ground. Then he said:"Something told me 't if I didn't come back and get --" He shuddered; then waved his nerveless hand with a vanquished gesture and said, "Tell 'em, Joe, tell 'em -- it ain't any use any more."Then Huckleberry and Tom stood dumb and staring, and heard the stony-hearted liar reel off his serene statement, they expecting every moment that the clear sky would deliver God's lightnings upon his head, and wondering to see how long the stroke was delayed. And when he had finished and still stood alive and whole, their wavering impulse to break their oath and save the poor betrayed prisoner's life faded and vanished away, for plainly this miscreant had sold himself to Satan and it would be fatal to meddle with the property of such a power as that."Why didn't you leave? What did you want to come here for?" somebody said."I couldn't help it -- I couldn't help it," potter moaned. "I wanted to run away, but I couldn't seem to come anywhere but here." And he fell to sobbing again.Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, a few minutes afterward on the inquest, under oath; and the boys, seeing that the lightnings were still withheld, were confirmed in their belief that Joe had sold himself to the devil. He was now become, to them, the most balefully interesting object they had ever looked upon, and they could not take their fascinated eyes from his face.They inwardly resolved to watch him nights, when opportunity should offer, in the hope of getting a glimpse of his dread master.Injun Joe helped to raise the body of the murdered man and put it in a wagon for removal; and it was whispered through the shuddering crowd that the wound bled a little! The boys thought that this happy circumstance would turn suspicion in the right direction; but they were disappointed, for more than one villager remarked:"It was within three feet of Muff potter when it done it."Tom's fearful secret and gnawing conscience disturbed his sleep for as much as a week after this; and at breakfast one morning Sid said:"Tom, you pitch around and talk in your sleep so much that you keep me awake half the time."Tom blanched and dropped his eyes."It's a bad sign," said Aunt polly, gravely. "What you got on your mind, Tom?""Nothing. Nothing 't I know of." But the boy's hand shook so that he spilled his coffee."And you do talk such stuff," Sid said. "Last night you said, 'It's blood, it's blood, that's what it is!' You said that over and over. And you said, 'Don't torment me so -- I'll tell!' Tell what? What is it you'll tell?"Everything was swimming before Tom. There is no telling what might have happened, now, but luckily the concern passed out of Aunt polly's face and she came to Tom's relief without knowing it. She said:"Sho! It's that dreadful murder. I dream about it most every night myself. Sometimes I dream it's me that done it."Mary said she had been affected much the same way. Sid seemed satisfied. Tom got out of the presence as quick as he plausibly could, and after that he complained of toothache for a week, and tied up his jaws every night. He never knew that Sid lay nightly watching, and frequently slipped the bandage free and then leaned on his elbow listening a good while at a time, and afterward slipped the bandage back to its place again. Tom's distress of mind wore off gradually and the toothache grew irksome and was discarded. If Sid really managed to make anything out of Tom's disjointed mutterings, he kept it to himself.It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would get done holding inquests on dead cats, and thus keeping his trouble present to his mind. Sid noticed that Tom never was coroner at one of these inquiries, though it had been his habit to take the lead in all new enterprises; he noticed, too, that Tom never acted as a witness -- and that was strange; and Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed a marked aversion to these inquests, and always avoided them when he could. Sid marvelled, but said nothing. However, even inquests went out of vogue at last, and ceased to torture Tom's conscience.Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom watched his opportunity and went to the little grated jail-window and smuggled such small comforts through to the "murderer" as he could get hold of. The jail was a trifling little brick den that stood in a marsh at the edge of the village, and no guards were afforded for it; indeed, it was seldom occupied. These offerings greatly helped to ease Tom's conscience.The villagers had a strong desire to tar-and-feather Injun Joe and ride him on a rail, for body-snatching, but so formidable was his character that nobody could be found who was willing to take the lead in the matter, so it was dropped. He had been careful to begin both of his inquest-statements with the fight, without confessing the grave-robbery that preceded it; therefore it was deemed wisest not to try the case in the courts at present.
或许您还会喜欢:
当我谈跑步时,我谈些什么
作者:佚名
章节:11 人气:2
摘要:有一句箴言说,真的绅士,不谈论别离了的女人和已然付出去的税金。此话其实是谎言,是我适才随口编造的,谨致歉意。倘若世上果真存在这么一句箴言,那么“不谈论健康方法”或许也将成为真的绅士的条件之一。真的绅士大约不会在大庭广众之下,喋喋不休地谈论自己的健康方法,我以为。一如众人所知,我并非真的绅士,本就无须一一介意这类琐事,如今却居然动笔来写这么一本书,总觉得有些难为情。 [点击阅读]
彗星来临
作者:佚名
章节:11 人气:2
摘要:我决定亲自写《彗星来临》这个故事,充其量只是反映我自己的生活,以及与我关系密切的一两个人的生活。其主要目的不过是为了自娱。很久以前,当我还是一个贫苦的青年时,我就想写一本书。默默无闻地写点什么及梦想有一天成为一名作家常常是我从不幸中解放出来的一种方法。我怀着羡慕和交流情感的心情阅读于幸福之中,这样做仍可以使人得到休闲,获得机会,并且部分地实现那些本来没有希望实现的梦想。 [点击阅读]
心兽
作者:佚名
章节:12 人气:2
摘要:第一章每朵云里有一个朋友在充满恐惧的世界朋友无非如此连我母亲都说这很正常别提什么朋友想想正经事吧——盖鲁徼?如果我们沉默,别人会不舒服,埃德加说,如果我们说话,别人会觉得可笑。我们面对照片在地上坐得太久。我的双腿坐麻木了。我们用口中的词就像用草中的脚那样乱踩。用沉默也一样。埃德加默然。今天我无法想象一座坟墓。只能想象一根腰带,一扇窗,一个瘤子和一条绳子。我觉得,每一次死亡都是一只袋子。 [点击阅读]
恶月之子
作者:佚名
章节:12 人气:2
摘要:仅点燃着烛光的书房里,桌案上电话铃声骤然响起,刹那间,我知道我的生活即将面临一场可怕的转变。我不是算命先生,我也不会观看天象,在我眼里,我掌中的手纹完全无法揭露我的未来,我也不像吉普赛人能从湿得的茶叶纹路洞察命理。父亲病在垂危已有数目,昨夜我在他的病榻旁,替他拭去眉毛上的汗珠,听着他吃力的一呼一吸,我心里明白他可能支撑不了多久。我生怕就这样失去他,害怕自己将面临二十八岁生命中首次孤零零的生活。 [点击阅读]
惊魂过山车
作者:佚名
章节:5 人气:2
摘要:───惊魂过山车───1我从来没有把这个故事告诉任何人,也从未想过要告诉别人,倒不是因为我怕别人不相信,而是感到惭愧。因为它是我的秘密,说出来就贬低了自己及故事本身,显得更渺小,更平淡,还不如野营辅导员在熄灯前给孩子们讲的鬼故事。我也害怕如果讲出来,亲耳听见,可能会连自己都开始不相信。但自从我母亲过世后,我一直无法安睡。 [点击阅读]
推销员之死
作者:佚名
章节:22 人气:2
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]
斯塔福特疑案
作者:佚名
章节:31 人气:2
摘要:布尔纳比少校穿上皮靴,扣好围颈的大衣领,在门旁的架子上拿下一盏避风灯,轻轻地打开小平房的正门,从缝隙向外探视。映入眼帘的是一派典型的英国乡村的景色,就象圣诞卡片和旧式情节剧的节目单上所描绘的一样——白雪茫茫,堆银砌玉。四天来整个英格兰一直大雪飞舞。在达尔特莫尔边缘的高地上,积雪深达数英所。全英格兰的户主都在为水管破裂而哀叹。只需个铝管工友(哪怕是个副手)也是人们求之不得的救星了。寒冬是严峻的。 [点击阅读]
斯泰尔斯庄园奇案
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:2
摘要:曾经轰动一时,在公众中引起强烈兴趣的“斯泰尔斯庄园案”,现在已经有点冷落下来了。然而,由于随之产生的种种流言蜚语广为流传,我的朋友波洛和那一家的人。都要求我把整个故事写出来。我们相信,这将有效地驳倒那些迄今为止仍在流传的耸人听闻的谣言。因此,我决定把我和这一事件有关的一些情况简略地记下来。我是作为伤病员从前线给遣送回家的;在一所令人相当沮丧的疗养院里挨过了几个月之后,总算给了我一个月的病假。 [点击阅读]
无声告白
作者:佚名
章节:12 人气:2
摘要:第一章莉迪亚死了,可他们还不知道。1977年5月3日早晨6点30分的时候,没有人知道莉迪亚已经死了,他们只清楚一个无伤大雅的事实:莉迪亚来不及吃早餐了。这个时候,与平常一样,母亲在莉迪亚的粥碗旁边放了一支削好的铅笔,还有莉迪亚的物理作业,作业中六个有问题的地方已经用对勾标了出来。 [点击阅读]
春潮
作者:佚名
章节:45 人气:2
摘要:欢快的岁月,幸福的时日——恰似春水悠悠,已经一去不留!——引自古老的抒情歌曲夜半一点多钟他回到自己的书房。打发走点燃灯烛的仆人,他便猛然坐到壁炉边的安乐椅里,用双手捂住了脸。他还从未感觉到这样疲乏——肉体的与精神的。 [点击阅读]