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:
零的焦点
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:0
摘要:秋天,经人做媒,板根祯子和鹈原宪一订了婚。祯子二十六岁,鹈原三十六岁。年龄倒很相配,但社会上看来,结婚似乎晚了点。“三十六岁还打光棍,不知过去有过什么事?”提亲时,祯子的母亲最为介意。也许有过什么事,三十六岁还没有碰过女人,似乎说不过去。但媒人说绝对没有。好像是在撒谎。作为一男人,也太懦弱了。工作已经多年,置身于男人世界里的份子是这样想的。事实上,和女人完全没交往的男人,会叫人瞧不起。 [点击阅读]
霍乱时期的爱情
作者:佚名
章节:42 人气:0
摘要:第一章(一)这些地方的变化日新月异,它们已有了戴王冠的仙女。——莱昂德罗·迪亚斯这是确定无疑的:苦扁桃的气息总勾起他对情场失意的结局的回忆。胡维纳尔?乌尔比诺医生刚走进那个半明半暗的房间就悟到了这一点。他匆匆忙忙地赶到那里本是为了进行急救,但那件多年以来使他是心的事已经不可挽回了。 [点击阅读]
霍桑短篇作品选
作者:佚名
章节:28 人气:0
摘要:01牧师的黑面纱①①新英格兰缅因州约克县有位约瑟夫·穆迪牧师,约摸八十年前去世。他与这里所讲的胡珀牧师有相同的怪癖,引人注目。不过,他的面纱含义不同。年轻时,他因失手杀死一位好友,于是从那天直到死,都戴着面纱,不让人看到他面孔。——作者注一个寓言米尔福礼拜堂的门廊上,司事正忙着扯开钟绳。 [点击阅读]
霍比特人
作者:佚名
章节:50 人气:0
摘要:在地底洞穴中住着一名哈比人。这可不是那种又脏又臭又湿,长满了小虫,满是腐败气味的洞穴;但是,它也并非是那种空旷多沙、了无生气、没有家具的无聊洞穴。这是个哈比人居住的洞穴,也是舒舒服服的同义词。这座洞穴有个像是舷窗般浑圆、漆成绿色的大门,在正中央有个黄色的闪亮门把。 [点击阅读]
青年近卫军
作者:佚名
章节:69 人气:0
摘要:亚·法捷耶夫(1901年12月24日——1956年5月13日)全名亚历山德罗维奇·法捷耶夫。他是俄罗斯古典文学传亚·法捷耶夫统的继承者,是苏联社会主义现实主义文学的杰出代表之一。他的作品是在社会主义革命精神鼓舞下写成的;他笔下的主人公们是为建设新生活而斗争的英勇战士。 [点击阅读]
青春咖啡馆
作者:佚名
章节:14 人气:0
摘要:那家咖啡馆有两道门,她总是从最窄的那扇门进出,那扇门人称黑暗之门。咖啡厅很小,她总是在小厅最里端的同一张桌子旁落座。初来乍到的那段时光,她从不跟任何人搭讪,日子一长,她认识了孔岱咖啡馆里的那些常客,他们中的大多数人跟我们年纪相仿,我的意思是说,我们都在十九到二十五岁之间。有时候,她会坐到他们中间去,但大部分时间里,她还是喜欢坐她自己的那个专座,也就是说坐最里端的那个位子。她来咖啡馆的时间也不固定。 [点击阅读]
静静的顿河
作者:佚名
章节:66 人气:0
摘要:评论重读《静静的顿河》,那些久违了的又陌生又熟悉的人物,以及他们痛苦的思想和命运,又一次激起了我内心的热情。顿河这条伟大的河流所哺育的哥萨克民族通过战争,在痛苦和流血之后最终走向了社会主义。肖洛霍夫把拥护苏维埃、迈向社会主义称为伟大的人类真理,并把它作为作品的主题之一。肖洛霍夫对顿河无比热爱,书中经常出现作者对顿河发自内心的充满激*情的赞颂。顿河草原上散发出的青草和泥土的浓烈味道,让读者过目不忘。 [点击阅读]
面纱
作者:佚名
章节:8 人气:0
摘要:1她惊叫了一声。“怎么啦?”他问道。房间里的百叶窗关着,光线很暗,但还是能看清她脸上恐惧的表情。“刚才有人动了一下门。”“呃,八成是女佣人,要不就是哪个童仆。”“这个时候他们决不会来。他们都知道吃完午饭我要睡觉。”“那还会是谁?”“是瓦尔特。”她嘴唇颤抖着小声说道。她用手指了指他的鞋。他便去穿鞋,但他的神经多少也有点紧张,因而显得笨手笨脚,而鞋带偏偏又是系着的。 [点击阅读]
风流狂女的复仇
作者:佚名
章节:9 人气:0
摘要:1矮男子闯进来了。矮男子头上蒙着面纱。“不许动!动就杀死你们!”矮男子手中握着尖头菜刀,声调带有奇怪的咬舌音。房间里有六个男人。桌子上堆放着成捆的钱。六个人正在清点。一共有一亿多日元。其中大半已经清点完毕。六个人一起站起来。房间的门本来是上了锁的,而且门前布置了警备员。矮男子一定是一声不响地把警备员打倒或杀死了,不然的话,是不会进房间里来的。六个人不能不对此感到恐惧。 [点击阅读]
风葬之城
作者:佚名
章节:8 人气:0
摘要:雪江从早上开始心情就不好。要是平常的话,肯定会训斥浅见睡懒觉的,可是今天她看见小儿子,露出一副无奈的神情,转身就回自己的房里去了。听佣人须美子说,雪江连早饭也没吃。“我妈她怎么了?”“牙疼。”“是嘛?……”浅见似乎有点幸灾乐祸似地反问道。“是的,听夫人说,装的假牙不好,像针扎似地痛。”“哦,是那样啊,牙不好。 [点击阅读]