姐,51。。。
轻松的小说阅读环境
Site Manager
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:
西西里人
作者:佚名
章节:31 人气:2
摘要:迈克尔-科莱昂站在巴勒莫长长的木制船坞上,望着那艘驶往美国的巨型客轮启航,他原准备搭乘那船的,只是他又接到了父亲的新指令。他挥手向小渔船上的人们告别,是他们带他来到船坞,而且在过去的岁月里一直护卫着他。小渔船在客轮身后泛起的白浪中颠簸,像一只紧紧追随母亲的勇敢的小鸭。船上的人也在向他挥手道别;他将再也见不到他们了。 [点击阅读]
贝姨
作者:佚名
章节:16 人气:2
摘要:一八三八年七月中旬,一辆在巴黎街头新流行的叫做爵爷的马车,在大学街上走着,车上坐了一个中等身材的胖子,穿着国民自卫军上尉的制服。在那般以风雅为人诟病的巴黎人中间,居然有一些自以为穿上军服比便服不知要体面多少,并且认为女人们目光浅陋,只消羽毛高耸的军帽和全副武装,便会给她们一个好印象。这位第二军团的上尉,眉宇之间流露出一派心满意足的神气,使他红堂堂的皮色和着实肥胖的脸庞显得更光彩。 [点击阅读]
一个陌生女人的来信
作者:佚名
章节:34 人气:2
摘要:茨威格(1881-1942),奥地利著名作家、文艺评论家。1881年生于维也纳一一个陌生女人的来信剧照(20张)个富裕的犹太工厂主家庭。青年时代在维也纳和柏林攻读哲学和文学。1904年后任《新自由报》编辑。后去西欧、北非、印度、美洲等地游历。在法国结识维尔哈伦、罗曼·罗兰、罗丹等人,受到他们的影响。第一次世界大战爆发以后,发表反战剧本《耶雷米亚》。 [点击阅读]
一朵桔梗花
作者:佚名
章节:37 人气:2
摘要:1.一串白藤花序幕花街上,点着常夜灯。如今,连一点痕迹都没有了,可是大正(注:日本年号,1911-1926)末年,在那个伸入濑户内海的小小港埠里,有一所即今是当时也使人觉得凄寂的风化区,名字就叫“常夜坡”。活了这么一把年纪,到如今还常常会想起那整晚点着的白花花、冷清清的灯光;奇异的是每次想起,它总是那么凄冷,了无生气。 [点击阅读]
伯特伦旅馆之谜
作者:佚名
章节:27 人气:2
摘要:在西郊地区中心,有一些小巷子,除了经验丰富的出租车司机以外,几乎没什么人知道。出租车司机们能胸有成竹地在里面游弋自如,然后得意洋洋地到达帕克巷、伯克利广场或南奥德利大巷。如果你从帕克大街拐上一条不知名的路,左右再拐几次弯,你就会发现自己到了一条安静的街道上,伯特伦旅馆就在你的右手边。伯特伦旅馆已经有很长的历史了。战争期间,它左右两边的房屋全都毁于一旦,但它却毫无损伤。 [点击阅读]
动物农场
作者:佚名
章节:35 人气:2
摘要:庄园农场的琼斯先生锁好几间鸡棚准备过夜,只是这一天他喝得烂醉,竟忘记关上那几扇小门了。他东倒西歪地走过院子,手中一盏提灯的光圈也随着摇摇晃晃。走进后门,他把靴子甩掉,又从放在洗碗间的酒桶里给自己倒了这一天的最后一杯啤酒,就爬上床去。这时琼斯太太早已在那儿打呼噜了。琼斯先生寝室里的灯光一灭,农场里个个厩棚就响起一阵骚动和嘈杂的声响。 [点击阅读]
厄兆
作者:佚名
章节:15 人气:2
摘要:从前,但不是很久以前,有一个恶魔来到了缅因州的小镇罗克堡。他在1970年杀死了一个名叫爱尔玛·弗莱彻特的女服务员;在1971年,一个名叫波琳·图塔克尔的女人和一个叫切瑞尔·穆迪的初中生;1974年,一个叫卡洛尔·杜巴戈的可爱的小女孩;1975年,一个名叫艾塔·林戈得的教师;最后,在同一年的早冬,一个叫玛丽·凯特·汉德拉森的小学生。 [点击阅读]
嘉利妹妹
作者:佚名
章节:47 人气:2
摘要:当嘉洛林.米贝登上下午开往芝加哥的火车时,她的全部行装包皮括一个小箱子,一个廉价的仿鳄鱼皮挎包皮,一小纸盒午餐和一个黄皮弹簧钱包皮,里面装着她的车票,一张写有她姐姐在凡.布仑街地址的小纸条,还有四块现钱.那是!”889年8月.她才!”8岁,聪明,胆怯,由于无知和年轻,充满着种种幻想.尽管她在离家时依依不舍,家乡可没有什么好处让她难以割舍. [点击阅读]
大江健三郎口述自传
作者:佚名
章节:20 人气:2
摘要:铁凝喜爱一个作家的作品,是不能不读他的自传的。每当我读过那些大家的自传后,就如同跟随着他们的人生重新跋涉了一遍,接着很可能再去重读他们的小说或诗。于是一种崭新的享受开始了,在这崭新阅读的途中,总会有新的美景突现,遥远而又亲近,陌生而又熟稔——是因为你了解并理解着他们作品之外的奇异人生所致吧。读许金龙先生最新译作《大江健三郎口述自传》,即是这样的心情。 [点击阅读]
契诃夫短篇小说集
作者:佚名
章节:44 人气:2
摘要:我的同事希腊文教师别里科夫两个月前才在我们城里去世。您一定听说过他。他也真怪,即使在最晴朗的日子,也穿上雨鞋,带着雨伞,而且一定穿着暖和的棉大衣。他总是把雨伞装在套子里,把表放在一个灰色的鹿皮套子里;就连那削铅笔的小刀也是装在一个小套子里的。他的脸也好像蒙着套子,因为他老是把它藏在竖起的衣领里。他戴黑眼镜穿羊毛衫,用棉花堵住耳朵眼。他一坐上马车,总要叫马车夫支起车篷。 [点击阅读]
寻羊冒险记
作者:佚名
章节:44 人气:2
摘要:星期三下午的郊游从报纸上偶然得知她的死讯的一个朋友打电话把这个消息告诉了我。他在听筒旁缓缓读了一家晨报的这则报道。报道文字很一般,大约是刚出大学校门的记者写的见习性文字。某月某日某街角某司机压死了某人。该司机因业务过失致死之嫌正接受审查。听起来竟如杂志扉页登载的一首短诗。“葬礼在哪里举行?”我问。“这——不知道。”他说,“问题首先是:那孩子有家什么的吗?”她当然也有家。 [点击阅读]
将军的女儿
作者:佚名
章节:37 人气:2
摘要:“这个座位有人吗?”我向独自坐在酒吧休息室里的那位年轻而有魅力的女士问道。她正在看报,抬头看了我一眼,但没有回答。我在她对面坐了下来,把我的啤酒放在两人之间的桌子上。她又看起报来,并慢慢喝着波旁威士忌①和可口可乐混合的饮料。我又问她:“你经常来这儿吗?”①这是原产于美国肯塔基州波旁的一种主要用玉米酿制的威士忌酒。“走开。”“你的暗号是什么?”“别捣乱。”“我好像在什么地方见过你。”“没有。 [点击阅读]
Copyright© 2006-2019. All Rights Reserved.