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:
海伯利安的陨落
作者:佚名
章节:76 人气:2
摘要:序章乌黑发亮的太空飞船的了望台上,霸主领事端坐在施坦威钢琴前,弹奏着拉赫马尼诺夫的《升C小调前奏曲》,虽然钢琴已是一件古董,却保存得完好如初。此时,舱下沼泽中,巨大的绿色蜥蜴状生物蠕动着,咆哮着。北方正酝酿着一场雷暴。长满巨大裸子植物的森林在乌青的黑云下现出黑色影像,而层积云就像万米高塔直插入狂暴天穹。闪电在地平线上肆虐。 [点击阅读]
燕尾蝶
作者:佚名
章节:26 人气:2
摘要:韦迪·卫斯特韦特之墓韦迪·卫斯特韦特是位出生于新泽西州的海军军官。他从越南战场上生还后,深深地为佛教的精神所折服,因此在退役后移居日本。虽然不能舍弃带血的牛排和打猎的爱好,但他尽可能对佛教教义加以部分独特的解释,努力使两者并存。当韦迪正在享受他最喜爱的打猎时,死神来临了。当看到爱犬得林伽已经把受伤的野鸭追得无路可逃时,他扣动扳机准备打死野鸭。 [点击阅读]
牛虻
作者:佚名
章节:38 人气:2
摘要:六月里一个炎热的傍晚,所有的窗户都敞开着,大学生亚瑟·勃尔顿正在比萨神学院的图书馆里翻查一大迭讲道稿。院长蒙太尼里神甫慈爱地注视着他。亚瑟出生在意大利的一个英国富商勃尔顿家中,名义上他是勃尔顿与后妻所生,但实则是后妻与蒙太尼里的私生子。亚瑟从小在家里受异母兄嫂的歧视,又看到母亲受他们的折磨和侮辱,精神上很不愉快,却始终不知道事情的真相。 [点击阅读]
短篇小说集
作者:佚名
章节:64 人气:2
摘要:前言:物欲世界的异化困惑与追求历来体现在青年人身上.以村上春树为主要代表的一批文学新锐,从城市生活这个独特视角,探讨当代青年心灵奥秘的"都市文学",便是这种困惑与追求的产物。村上春树是"都市文学"的中流砥柱.他的《寻羊冒险记》(1982)中的人物,一律无名无姓,个个慵懒、孤独、彷徨,缺乏自己的内心世界.他们在商品的汪洋大海中,物化为喧嚣尘世的附属品, [点击阅读]
福地
作者:佚名
章节:40 人气:2
摘要:海尔曼·布霍尔茨——德国人,罗兹某印染厂厂长卡罗尔·博罗维耶茨基(卡尔)——布霍尔茨印染厂经理莫雷茨·韦尔特(马乌雷齐)——布霍尔茨印染厂股东,博罗维耶茨基的好友马克斯·巴乌姆——博罗维耶茨基的好友布霍尔佐娃——布霍尔茨的妻子克诺尔——布霍尔茨的女婿马切克·维索茨基——布霍尔茨印染厂医生尤利乌什·古斯塔夫·哈梅施坦(哈梅尔)——布霍尔茨的私人医生什瓦尔茨——布霍尔茨印染厂公务员列昂·科恩——布霍尔 [点击阅读]
荆棘鸟
作者:佚名
章节:30 人气:2
摘要:考琳·麦卡洛,生于澳大利亚新南威尔士州的惠灵顿。她曾从事过多种工作——旅游业、图书馆、教书;后来终于成了一名神经病理学家,曾就学于美国耶鲁大学。她的第一部小说是《蒂姆》,而《荆棘鸟》则构思了四年,作了大量的调查工作,方始动笔。此书一发表,作者便一举成名。作者是位多才多艺的人,喜欢摄影、音乐、绘画、服装裁剪等。她现定居于美国。 [点击阅读]
荒岛夺命案
作者:佚名
章节:39 人气:2
摘要:一部优秀的通俗小说不仅应明白晓畅,紧密联系社会现实和群众生活,而且应该成为社会文化的窗口,使读者可以从中管窥一个社会的政治、经济、历史、法律等方方面面的情况。美国小说家内尔森-德米勒于一九九七年写出的《荒岛夺命案》正是这样一部不可多得的佳作。作者以其超凡的叙事才能,将金钱、法律、谋杀、爱情、正义与邪恶的斗争等融为一炉,演释出一部情节曲折、扣人心弦而又发人深思的侦探小说。 [点击阅读]
褐衣男子
作者:佚名
章节:37 人气:2
摘要:使整个巴黎为之疯狂的俄籍舞者纳蒂娜,正一再的向台下不断喝彩赞好的观众鞠躬谢幕。她那细窄的双眼,此时显得更加的细眯,猩红的唇线微微上翘。当布幔缓缓下落,逐渐遮盖住五彩缤纷的舞台装饰时,热情的法国观众仍不停地击掌赞赏。舞者终于在蓝色和橘色的布幔旋涡中离开了舞台。一位蓄须的绅士热情地拥抱着她,那是剧院的经理。“了不起,真了不起!”他叫喊着。“今晚的表演,你已超越了自己。”他一本正经地亲吻她的双颊。 [点击阅读]
魔都
作者:佚名
章节:43 人气:2
摘要:以文字构筑的人生舞台──久生十兰曲辰先想一下,1902年的时候,《莫格街谋杀案》现世满一甲子,《血字的研究》刚出版十五年,推理小说正处在我们所谓的“光荣时代”;而即便《科学怪人》与H?G?威尔斯的眾多作品早已出现,但科幻(SF)这一个名词,却还要等到十几年后,才会开张营业,正式成为一个可以标识的文类;尽管爱丽丝当时已经追著兔子跑到了几十年, [点击阅读]
24个比利
作者:佚名
章节:26 人气:2
摘要:※※※※※序言本书叙述的是一则真实故事──威廉.密里根是美国史上第一位犯下重罪,结果却获判无罪的嫌犯,因为他是一位多重人格分裂者。他不像精神病或一般小说上所记载的其他多重人格病患一样使用杜撰的假名,从被逮捕到被控诉开始,他一直都是争论性的公众人物。他的面孔出现在各报章杂志的头版和封面上,心智检查的结果不仅出现在夜间电视新闻节目,更成了报纸的头条新闻,迅速传遍全世界。 [点击阅读]