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:
猜火车
作者:佚名
章节:26 人气:4
摘要:欧文·威尔士,苏格兰著名作家,曾凭借《猜火车》一书被称为“药物时代的桂冠诗人”。这本书因为真实描绘苏格兰地区的下层人民生活而成名,其在1996年改编成电影,更是成为经典。一九五八年出生于爱丁堡雷斯市,他是个广受赞誉的苏格兰小说家,《猜火车》是他第一部,也是最著名的作品。 [点击阅读]
恶意
作者:佚名
章节:14 人气:5
摘要:事件之章野野口修的笔记一事情发生在四月十六日、星期二。那天下午三点半我从家里出发,前往日高邦彦的住处。日高家距离我住的地方仅隔一站电车的路程,到达车站改搭巴士,再走上一小段路的时间,大约二十分钟到了。平常就算没什么事,我也常到日高家走走,不过那天却是有特别的事要办。这么说好了,要是错过那天,我就再也见不到他了。 [点击阅读]
苏菲的世界
作者:佚名
章节:52 人气:2
摘要:话说我对哲学产生兴趣是在研一时的自然辩证法课堂上。那是位颇为娘娘腔的老教授,本行研究人脑和意识,业余时间教授自然辩证法和自然科学史。不像其他政治课老师只晓得照本宣科,这老头有相当牛逼的学术基础,从古希腊哲学的朴素唯物主义,讲到近现代一系列科学危机,一贯而至,娓娓道来,一面精彩轻松的讲解着各种科学定律,一面逐步揭开科学背后的思辨踪影;当然作为一位老右愤, [点击阅读]
午夜凶铃
作者:佚名
章节:36 人气:2
摘要:?19月5日晚上10点49分横滨数栋14层公寓和三溪园住宅区的北端紧紧相邻,这些新建的公寓已经有很多人入住。每一栋公寓有将近100户住家,算是人口相当密集了。但是,公寓里的住户们不相往来,彼此也不认识,只有在夜里窗子透出灯光时,才让人意识到这里有人居住。在南边,工厂的照明灯投射在漆黑的海面上,静静地拉出一道长影。工厂的外墙上交缠着无数管线,令人联想到人体内错综复杂的血管。 [点击阅读]
幻夜
作者:佚名
章节:82 人气:2
摘要:昏暗的工厂里,机床的黑影排成一排。那样子让雅也想到夜晚的墓地。不过,老爸要进入的坟墓并没有如此气派。黑影们看上去就像失去了主人的忠实奴仆。它们也许正和雅也怀着同样的心情,静静地迎接这个夜晚。雅也把盛着酒的茶碗送到嘴边。茶碗的边缘有个小缺口,正好碰在嘴唇上。喝干后,他叹了口气。旁边伸过一个酒瓶,把酒倒入他的空茶碗里。“以后在各方面都会有困难,但不要气馁,加把劲儿吧。“舅舅俊郎说。 [点击阅读]
五十度灰英文版
作者:佚名
章节:67 人气:2
摘要:E L James is a TV executive, wife, and mother of two, based in West London. Since early childhood, she dreamt of writing stories that readers would fall in love with, but put those dreams on hold to focus on her family and her career. She finally plucked up the courage to put pen to paper with her first novel, Fifty Shades of Grey. [点击阅读]
血火大地
作者:佚名
章节:23 人气:2
摘要:第一章绿林恶魔1没有风,天黑以后,气温还未降下来。空气的湿度很大,蚊子叮咬着人粘糊糊的肌肤。在巴西偏僻内地长大的日本姑娘水野直子,已经习惯了蚊子和毒虫,对蚊虫的毒素已产生了免疫力,即使受到它们叮咬也没什么反应。如果对它们神经过敏的话,在这里简直无法生活。一阵巨大的声音把直子惊醒。她从粗糙的木床上坐起时,那声音变成了狂吼和怒号。 [点击阅读]
源氏物语
作者:佚名
章节:63 人气:2
摘要:《源氏物语》是日本的一部古典名著,对于日本文学的发展产生了巨大的影响,被誉为日本文学的高峰。《源氏物语》是世界上最早的长篇写实小说,所以在世界文学史上也占有相当重要的地位。日本是个充满矛盾的国家,在歧视女性*的传统大行其道的同时,世界上最早的长篇写实小说《源氏物语》偏又出自一位女性*之手,《源氏物语》全书,仅百万字,涉及三代历时七十余年,书中人物有四百多位。 [点击阅读]
龙纹身的女孩
作者:佚名
章节:31 人气:2
摘要:这事每年都会发生,几乎成了惯例,而今天是他八十二岁生日。当花照例送达时,他拆开包皮装纸,拿起话筒打电话给退休后便搬到达拉纳省锡利扬湖的侦查警司莫瑞尔。他们不只同年,还是同日生,在这种情况下可说是一种讽刺。这位老警官正端着咖啡,坐等电话。“东西到了。”“今年是什么花?”“不知道是哪一种,我得去问人。是白色的。”“没有信吧,我猜。”“只有花。框也和去年一样,自己做的。”“邮戳呢?”“斯德哥尔摩。 [点击阅读]
双城记英文版
作者:佚名
章节:45 人气:2
摘要:It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light [点击阅读]