"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"Alice screamed as she tumbled through a brilliantly colored sky. The ground was rushing toward her at an alarming rate, and unlike during her tumble down the rabbit hole, there were no objects to slow her descent. 

"Oof!" Alice landed with a thud on the petals of a giant chrysanthemum. Sitting up in a daze, she realized the flower stuck out of an arrangement on a table in the garden of Marmoreal Castle. To her delight, her old friends were gathered around the table, peering down at her. 

At the end sat McTwisp, the White Rabbit, who had first led her to that magical place; and Thackery, the wacky March Hare. The Tweedles, bald and roly-poly as ever, rocked slightly on a bench to the side. Opposite them, Bayard, the brown-and-black bloodhound with the sharpest nose in Underland, woofed a low greeting at Alice. Pacing back and forth among the papers scattered on the table was Mallymkun, the fearless Dormouse. And directly in front of Alice, the ever-beautiful and kind face of the White Queen, Mirana, peered down, although her expression looked troubled. 

Alice stood and brushed herself off. She beamed up at everyone, but nobody returned her smile. 

"Have I come at a bad time?" she asked. 

"We were afraid you weren't coming at all," Mirana said somberly. With gentle hands, she moved Alice down from the centerpiece to rest on the table. 

"Whatever's the matter?" Alice said. The Jabberwocky was dead, and with Iracebeth, the Red Queen; and her lackey, Stayne, banished to the Outlands, Alice had hoped Underland would enjoy years of peace. 

"The Hatter's the matter," McTwisp said. Alice realized with a jolt that the Mad Hatter was indeed missing—something he would hate. He always loved a good party. 

"Or the matter of the Hatter?" Tweedledum said. 

"The former!" Tweedledee insisted. 

"The latter!" his brother retorted. 

"Tweedles!" Mirana's tone was brisk as she shot the boys a warning look. 

"He's mad," the Tweedles said in unison. 

"Hatter?" Alice said. "Yes, I know. That's what makes him so ... him." She wished they'd get to the real problem. 

"But worse," Tweedledum continued ominously, bending his head down toward her. "Denies himself laughter." 

"Grows darker, less dafter," his brother finished. 

The Hatter not laughing? It was hard for Alice to imagine him without a mischievous glint in his eye and a grin on his face. As if summoned by her thoughts, a toothy grin appeared in midair. Slowly, the rest of the Cheshire Cat came into view as he lazily twisted himself into a circle. 

"And no scheme of ours can raise any sort of smile," Chessur explained, gesturing to the papers on the table. 

Looking down, Alice saw that the pages she stood on were covered with sketches and ideas of ways to make Hatter laugh: diagrams of where to tickle, schemes of how to surprise him, and pages of scribbled jokes and riddles to amuse him. 

Chessur's eyes fixed on Alice as he continued: "We'd rather hoped you might help us save him." 

Alice frowned. "Save him? What happened?" 

Everyone exchanged looks; then Bayard nosed forward. 

"There was a great storm and we ventured out on to Tulgey Woods to investigate," Bayard began. He described how the wind had scattered leaves and branches everywhere. As they'd walked along, they had started to play fetch, with Bayard hurling a stick and Hatter bounding after it on all fours, his tongue hanging out sideways. 

"Hatter was perfectly Hatterish," Bayard continued, "until ..." 

He continued, explaining how Hatter had suddenly frozen. Then Hatter had plucked a tiny hat made out of blue paper from inside a tree stump, where it appeared to have been hidden. 

"That was the start of it," Bayard said ruefully. 

"Of what?" Alice asked, pressing him. 

"The grand decline," Mirana said somberly. 

McTwisp hopped forward. "He's convinced his family are still alive." 

"Which has made him deadly serious," Bayard went on. 

"Terminally sane," Tweedledum intoned. And for once, his brother had nothing to add. 

Mallymkun sniffed, then shook her head. As Alice was the same height as the Dormouse, she had no trouble patting Mally on the shoulder. Silence fell over the table, everyone lost in thought. 

With hopeful eyes, Mirana turned to Alice. "And then we thought of you." 

Alice drew herself up tall—well, as tall as she could, given her diminished height. No matter what, she would not let them—and, more importantly, the Hatter—down. "Where is he?" she asked. 

After ducking behind a bush, eating a bit of Upelkuchen cake—she knew better than to take large bites—and adjusting her outfit, Alice emerged feeling normal-sized. She nodded at Mirana, who broke into the first smile Alice had seen since she had arrived. 

The White Queen then led the way out of the castle's garden and down into a shaded wood. The rest of the gang trailed behind them. 

Mirana stopped at the edge of a clearing overlooking a canyon. Straight ahead, a narrow strip of land barely three feet wide stuck out into the canyon and led to a house that could only belong to the Mad Hatter. The house was shaped like a top hat, with circular walls and a roof that jutted out like a brim. 

With careful steps, Alice picked her way along the path and walked up onto the red-and-white porch. She raised her hand to knock on the bright turquoise door, but it flew open before she could. A man stood there in a neatly pressed dark gray suit. His red hair was combed flat and he wore a serious expression on his face. 

"Yes?" Hatter asked. Even his voice was different—flatter and lower. 

"Hatter? It's me ... Alice!" she said. She stepped forward to hug him, but he shied away, peering behind her anxiously. 

"I'm not taking on any new heads now," Hatter said quickly. "Good day." 

Ducking backward, he slammed the door in Alice's face. She stared at its wooden planks for a moment, then firmly pushed it open and marched inside. This might prove to be more difficult than she had thought, but he would talk to her. 

The interior was cozy, with warm wooden floors, and achingly neat. The Hatter himself had settled in behind a large desk and had his head buried in an accounting ledger, a quill pen in his hand poised over the page. 

Startled by her entrance, he looked up, eyes wide. 

"Hatter, it's me! Alice! Alice!" she exclaimed. 

"Miss, please." Hatter set down his pen and raised his hands. "If you want a hat—" 

"I don't want a hat," Alice said. "I've come to see you. I want to talk to you!" 

"Well, if you don't want a hat, I'm quite certain I can't help you!" Hatter said matter-of-factly. 

"But you can help! I'm sure you can." Alice leaned across the desk, searching his face for some spark of recognition. "I just need you to be you again! Everyone does." 

Hatter just stood up and turned away. Muttering to himself, he moved through an open doorway to a back room. Disappointed but undeterred, Alice followed him. 

In the back parlor, Hatter paused beneath a giant family portrait. The men and women were posed around a tall black top hat that rested on a white stone pillar. Hatter himself stood at one edge of the group. The man closest to him looked stern and was leaning slightly away from Hatter, as though Hatter didn't quite belong with them. All the relatives wore serious expressions except for Hatter and the young baby. 

"Was that ..." Alice began softly. 

"My family," Hatter said proudly. "Lost for many years, but now they're coming home! Look, I've made hats for each of them!" 

Turning with a flourish, he gestured to a row of beautifully crafted hats. "My father, Zanik; my mother, Tyva; Uncle Poomally; Aunt Bumalig; Cousins Pimlick, Paloo, and baby Bim." 

"But ... how do you know they're alive?" Alice asked. 

Hatter leaned toward her, studying her face. 

"Can you keep a secret?" he whispered. 

"No," Alice said honestly. 

"Good!" Hatter spun around and dug in a drawer. "I found this," he cried, producing a tiny blue paper hat. "Proof! A sign! A message!" He paused, then continued with conviction. "They're alive!" 

Alice frowned in dismay: how on earth could a crumpled paper hat prove his family had survived? "But if they're alive," she said, trying to reason with him, "where are they?" 

"That's the trouble, isn't it?" Hatter grumbled, his hands waving in the air. "High and low. I've searched both. Nowhere. Naught. Nothing. I don't understand why they haven't come and found me." His shoulders slumped as he sank onto a chair. 

"I don't understand." Reaching forward, Alice touched his back gently. "You yourself told me your family died. Long ag—" She broke off as Hatter stood abruptly. 

"I don't know who you are or what you're trying to do"—Hatter's voice rose in agitation—"but my family is not gallsackering dead!" 

"Hatter, please," Alice said. 

"Get out!" Hatter bellowed. The force of his words caught him off guard and he stumbled back. Alice started forward to help support him, but he shook his head and waved her away. Breathing heavily, he turned and leaned against a table. 

Not sure what she could possibly say to fix things, Alice retreated. After one final glance at the Hatter's trembling frame, she ducked through the front room and out into the sunlight. 

“啊啊啊啊啊啊！”爱丽丝尖叫着跌入了一片色彩绚丽的天空。爱丽丝以惊人的速度朝地面冲去，与兔子洞那次不同，这回她身边可没有东西来缓冲了。 

“哎哟！”爱丽丝重重地跌入一朵大菊花的花瓣中。她恍恍惚惚地坐起身，意识到这朵花应该是大理石宫中花园里那张桌子上的摆饰。让她高兴的是，她的老朋友们都围坐在桌边，正低头看着自己。 

麦可·辛，也就是白兔子，坐在桌子尽头，它是第一个带领爱丽丝来到这片神奇之地的人；还有萨克雷，就是古怪的三月兔。双胞胎兄弟还是和以前一样，没有头发，胖乎乎的，他们正在旁边的长凳上轻轻地晃来晃去。贝亚德坐在他们对面，它是一条棕黑色猎犬，在地下世界，属它的鼻子最灵。它对爱丽丝低声叫了一声，表示欢迎。无所畏惧的睡鼠正在一堆散乱的纸上踱来踱去。爱丽丝的正前方是白皇后莫安娜，她永远是那么漂亮，那么亲切。白皇后正低头注视着自己，尽管表情中有一丝不安。 

爱丽丝站起身，掸了掸身上的灰，笑容满面地看着大家，但是并没有人对她回以微笑。 

“我是不是来得不是时候？”爱丽丝问道。 

“我们还担心你根本不会来了呢。”莫安娜忧郁地说。她温柔地将爱丽丝从摆饰上扶起来，让她倚着桌子。 

“到底怎么了？”爱丽丝问道。炸脖龙已经死了，红皇后伊拉贝斯和她的男仆斯塔亚尼也都被流放到了蛮荒之地，爱丽丝还希望地下世界能过几年和平日子呢。 

“是疯帽子的事。”白兔子回答。爱丽丝的心一沉，她突然意识到疯帽子确实不见了——他可不喜欢这样。他一向热衷于参加好玩的派对。 

“或者说，是疯帽子出事了？”咚咚说。 

“当然是前者！”叮叮坚持道。 

“后者！”咚咚反驳道。 

“你们俩！”莫安娜冷冷地说，瞪了他们一眼。 

“他疯了。”双胞胎兄弟异口同声地说。 

“疯帽子吗？”爱丽丝说，“对，我知道。这就是为什么他……才是他。”爱丽丝希望他们可以言归正传了。 

“但是更糟了。”咚咚脸上的神情有些不妙，他低下头，对爱丽丝继续说，“他不再笑了。” 

“他越来越忧郁，也不那么疯了。”叮叮接着说。 

疯帽子不笑了？爱丽丝很难想象疯帽子的眼里不再闪烁着淘气，脸上也不再挂着笑容。突然，一个露齿的笑容在空中浮现，好像是被爱丽丝的意念召唤过来似的。渐渐地，柴郡猫的身体也浮现在空中，他懒洋洋地卷成一个圈。 

“我们怎么做都逗不笑他。”妙妙猫一边解释，一边指了指桌上的那堆纸。 

爱丽丝低下头，看到自己脚下的纸上写的都是要逗笑疯帽子的草图和点子：比如痒痒肉的位置图，为他制造惊喜的计划，还有好几页笑话和谜语的草稿，希望能逗他开心。 

妙妙猫注视着爱丽丝，继续说：“我们真希望你能来帮我们拯救他。” 

爱丽丝皱着眉问：“拯救他？发生什么事了？” 

大家交换了一下眼神；贝亚德向前拱了拱鼻子。 

“当时有一场猛烈的风暴，我们冒险去了屠集林一探究竟。”贝亚德开始说话了。他描绘着那场风有多大，把树叶和树枝刮得到处都是。他们一边向前走着，一边开始玩起了追物游戏：贝亚德用力扔出一根木棍，疯帽子四肢着地，跟着木棍蹦蹦跳跳，像狗一样侧伸着舌头。 

“疯帽子还是那个完美的疯帽子。”贝亚德接着说，“直到……” 

他继续讲了下去，说疯帽子突然一下僵住了，接着从一个树桩里扯出了一顶很小的蓝色纸帽子，这顶帽子似乎是被人藏在这个树桩中的。 

“这就是开始。”贝亚德难过地说。 

“什么的开始？”爱丽丝追问道。 

“这场大病的开始。”莫安娜忧郁地说。 

白兔子向前跳了跳：“疯帽子坚信他的家人还活着。” 

“这让他变得异常严肃。”贝亚德继续说道。 

“无可救药地恢复理智了。”咚咚一脸严肃地拖着声音说。这一次，叮叮什么也没补充。 

睡鼠抽了抽鼻子，摇了摇头。爱丽丝现在和睡鼠一样高，所以她拍了拍睡鼠的肩膀。沉寂笼罩着整张桌子，每个人都陷入了沉思。 

莫安娜转向爱丽丝，眼神中充满了希望：“然后我们就想到 了你。” 

爱丽丝用力挺直了身体——考虑到自己缩小了的身材，她得尽可能让自己变高一点。无论如何，爱丽丝都不能让大家——更重要的是不能让疯帽子——失望。“他在哪儿？”爱丽丝问道。 

爱丽丝躲到灌木丛中，吃了一小口神奇蛋糕——她还没笨到咬一大口。爱丽丝调整了一下衣服，感觉自己已经恢复到正常身材的大小了。她对莫安娜点点头，莫安娜对她报以一个微笑，这是爱丽丝来到地下世界后收到的第一个微笑。 

白皇后领着大家走出大理石宫的花园，来到了一片荫蔽的树丛中，大家都跟在后面。 

莫安娜在一块空地边上停了下来，从空地上往下看就是一个峡谷。再往前走，一条窄窄的小路从峡谷中延伸出来，这条小路只有三英尺宽，通向一栋房子，这房子一看就是疯帽子的。因为这座房子的外形就像一顶大礼帽，墙壁是圆的，延伸出来的屋顶就像是帽檐。 

爱丽丝小心翼翼地沿着小路走着，来到了红白相间的门廊。房门是明亮的青绿色，爱丽丝伸出手刚准备敲门，门突然自己开了。一位男士穿着整洁的深灰色西装站在那儿，红色的头发梳得非常平整，一脸严肃。 

“有事吗？”疯帽子问道。甚至连他的声音都不一样了——更单调，更低沉。 

“疯帽子？是我……爱丽丝！”爱丽丝说着上前去拥抱他，但是疯帽子却避开了，在爱丽丝身后紧张地注视着她。 

“我现在不接受新的订单。”疯帽子快速回答道，“再见。” 

说完，他向后一闪，当着爱丽丝的面把门砰地关上了。爱丽丝对着这扇木门盯了一会儿，然后坚定地推开它，大步走了进去。也许拯救疯帽子比自己之前想象得更难，但他会愿意跟自己谈谈的。 

房间里很舒适，木地板暖暖的，屋子整洁得让人心痛。疯帽子独自坐在一张大书桌后面，正埋头看账本。他手里握着一只羽毛笔，悬在账本上方。 

他被爱丽丝的闯入吓了一跳，抬起头，睁大了眼睛。 

“疯帽子，是我啊！爱丽丝！我是爱丽丝！”爱丽丝喊道。 

“对不起，小姐。”疯帽子放下笔，抬起手说道，“如果你想买顶帽子……” 

“我不想买帽子。”爱丽丝说，“我是来看你的。我想跟你聊聊。” 

“好吧，如果你不想买帽子，那我真的没什么可以效劳的了！”他就事论事地说。 

“你可以！我确定你可以。”爱丽丝靠着桌子，盯着疯帽子，希望从他的脸上找到一点认出自己的迹象，“我只是想让你做回你自己！我们所有人都这么希望。” 

疯帽子只是站起身，走开了。他一边自言自语，一边穿过门进了里屋。爱丽丝跟在他身后，有点失望，但并没有气馁。 

疯帽子来到里屋的会客厅，在一张巨大的全家福下面停了下来。一群男女围着白色石柱上的黑色大礼帽摆着各种姿势。疯帽子站在靠边的位置，他身边的那位男士看起来非常严厉，和他保持着距离，向另一侧斜靠着，好像疯帽子不是他们中的一员。画像中，除了疯帽子和小婴儿，其他亲戚都很严肃。 

“他们是……”爱丽丝轻声说。 

“我的家人。”疯帽子骄傲地说，“他们失踪很多年了，但现在他们快回来了！你看，我给他们每个人都做了一顶帽子！” 

疯帽子得意地转过头，指着一排精心制作的帽子。“这是我父亲的，他叫桑尼克；我母亲的，泰瓦；叔叔的，普迈利；婶婶的，布玛丽；堂兄的，皮姆利科和帕洛；还有这个小宝贝的，比姆。” 

“可是……你怎么知道他们还活着呢？”爱丽丝问道。 

疯帽子朝她靠过来，盯着她的脸。 

“你能保密吗？”他悄悄地说。 

“不能。”爱丽丝实话实说。 

“太好了！”疯帽子转过头，把手伸到一个抽屉里。“我找到了这个。”他边喊边拿出一顶小小的蓝色纸帽子，“这就是证明！是一个标志！是一个信息！”他顿了顿，然后确信地继续说：“他们还活着！” 

爱丽丝失望地皱了皱眉头。一顶皱皱巴巴的纸帽子怎么能证明他的家人还活着呢？“就算他们还活着，”爱丽丝试着劝说疯帽子，“他们又在哪儿呢？” 

“这就是问题所在，对吧？”疯帽子嘟囔着，两只手在空中挥舞，“上上下下我都找遍了。哪儿都没有。都没有。什么都没有。我不明白他们为什么还不来找我。”说着，他倒在椅子上，肩膀也沉了下去。 

“我不明白。”爱丽丝说着，走上前轻轻地抚摸着疯帽子的背，“你之前告诉我你的家人已经不在了。很久以前……”疯帽子突然站起身，于是她停了下来。 

“我不知道你是谁，我也不知道你想干什么。”疯帽子激动地说，“但是我的家人没有全部死去！” 

“疯帽子，别这样。”爱丽丝说。 

“出去！”疯帽子吼道。这两个字用尽了疯帽子全身的力气，他一下子向后摔去。爱丽丝走上前想把他扶起来，但他摇了摇头，挥手让爱丽丝离开。他喘着粗气，转身靠在桌子上。 

爱丽丝不知道说什么才能挽回现在的局面，于是向后退去。她最后望了一眼疯帽子颤抖的身影，迅速穿过前厅离开了屋子，走到了阳光下。