For You to Read
属于您的小说阅读网站
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:
宠物公墓
作者:佚名
章节:62 人气:2
摘要:耶稣对他的门徒说:“我们的朋友拉撒路睡了,我去叫醒他。”门徒互相看看,有些人不知道耶稣的话是带有比喻含义的,他们笑着说:“主啊,他若睡了,就必好了。”耶稣就明明白白地告诉他们说:“拉撒路死了……如今我们去他那儿吧。”——摘自《约翰福音》第01章路易斯·克利德3岁就失去了父亲,也从不知道祖父是谁,他从没料想到在自己步入中年时,却遇到了一个像父亲一样的人。 [点击阅读]
情书
作者:佚名
章节:15 人气:2
摘要:下雪了,就在藤井先生结束致词的一刻。"就此,多谢大家的到来。我肯定,阿树泉下有知,一定会很高兴。"渡边博子参加了藤井树逝世三周年的纪念仪式。藤井树的父亲正站在墓碑前讲及他儿子生前的点滴。博子?如果阿树多留一点时间便好了。三年前的事就像在眼前。当时,她跟阿树正准备结婚。就在婚期之前,阿树参加了一个攀山探险旅程。山中,一场突如其来的风暴迫使探险队改行一条少人使用的路。 [点击阅读]
暗藏杀机
作者:佚名
章节:28 人气:2
摘要:一九一五年五月七日下午两点,卢西塔尼亚号客轮接连被两枚鱼雷击中,正迅速下沉。船员以最快的速度放下救生艇。妇女和儿童排队等着上救生艇。有的妇女绝望地紧紧抱住丈夫,有的孩子拼命地抓住他们的父亲,另外一些妇女把孩子紧紧搂在怀里。一位女孩独自站在一旁,她很年轻,还不到十八岁。看上去她并不害怕,她看着前方,眼神既严肃又坚定。“请原谅。”旁边一位男人的声音吓了她一跳并使她转过身来。 [点击阅读]
查太莱夫人的情人
作者:佚名
章节:27 人气:2
摘要:因为坊间出现了好几种《查太莱夫人的情人》的偷印版,所以我现在决意在法国印行这种六十法郎的廉价的大众版,我希望这一来定可满足欧洲大陆读者的要求了。但是,偷印家们——至少在美国——是猖厥的。真版的第一版书从佛罗伦斯寄到美国不到一月,在纽约业已有第一版的偷印版出卖了。这种偷印版与原版第一版,拿来卖给不存疑心的读者。 [点击阅读]
模仿犯
作者:佚名
章节:46 人气:2
摘要:1996年9月12日。直到事情过去很久以后,塚田真一还能从头到尾想起自己那天早上的每一个活动。那时在想些什么,起床时是什么样的心情,在散步常走的小道上看到了什么,和谁擦肩而过,公园的花坛开着什么样的花等等这样的细节仍然历历在目。把所有事情的细节都深深地印在脑子里,这种习惯是他在这一年左右的时间里养成的。每天经历的一个瞬间接一个瞬间,就像拍照片一样详细地留存在记忆中。 [点击阅读]
玻璃球游戏
作者:佚名
章节:23 人气:2
摘要:引言——试释玻璃球游戏及其历史一般而言,对于浅薄者来说,对不存在的事物也许较之于具体事物容易叙述,因为他可以不负责任地付诸语言,然而,对于虔诚而严谨的历史学家来说,情况恰恰相反。但是,向人们叙述某些既无法证实其存在,又无法推测其未来的事物,尽管难如登天,但却更为必要。虔诚而严谨的人们在一定程度上把它们作为业已存在的事物予以探讨,这恰恰使他们向着存在的和有可能新诞生的事物走近了一步。 [点击阅读]
请你帮我杀了她
作者:佚名
章节:75 人气:2
摘要:你知道吗,大夫,你并不是我回来以后看过的第一个心理医生。我刚回来的时候,我的家庭医生就给我推荐了一位。那人可不怎么样,他假装不知道我是谁,这也太假了——你要不知道我是谁,除非你又聋又瞎。每次我走在路上,转个身,似乎都会有拿着照相机的白痴从路边的灌木丛中跳出来。但在这一切倒霉事情发生之前呢?很多人从来都没有听说过温哥华岛,更不用说克莱顿瀑布区了。 [点击阅读]
不能承受的生命之轻
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:2
摘要:米兰·昆德拉(MilanKundera,1929-),捷克小说家,生于捷克布尔诺市。父亲为钢琴家、音乐艺术学院的教授。生长于一个小国在他看来实在是一种优势,因为身处小国,“要么做一个可怜的、眼光狭窄的人”,要么成为一个广闻博识的“世界性*的人”。童年时代,他便学过作曲,受过良好的音乐熏陶和教育。少年时代,开始广泛阅读世界文艺名著。 [点击阅读]
世界之战
作者:佚名
章节:27 人气:2
摘要:在19世纪末,没有人相信我们这个世界正在被一种比人类更先进,并且同样也不免会死亡的智慧生命聚精会神地注视着,又有谁会相信,当人类正在为自己的事情忙忙碌碌的时候,他们被专心致志地研究着,像人们用显微镜研究一滴水里蠕动繁殖的生物一般仔细。自高自大的人类来往于世界各地,忙着干自己的事,自以为控制了物质世界的一切。显微镜下的纤毛虫恐怕也不乏这样的幻觉。 [点击阅读]
伊利亚特
作者:佚名
章节:32 人气:2
摘要:《荷马史诗》是希腊最早的一部史诗,包括《伊里亚特》和《奥德赛》两部分,相传是由盲诗人荷马所作,实际上它产生于民间口头文学。伊里亚特(ΙΛΙΑΣ,Ilias,Iliad,又译《伊利昂记》,今译《伊利亚特》。)是古希腊盲诗人荷马(Homer,800BC-600BC)的叙事诗史诗。是重要的古希腊文学作品,也是整个西方的经典之一。 [点击阅读]