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."

星期天早上天刚刚有点蒙蒙亮，哈克就摸上山，轻轻地敲着老威尔斯曼家的门。里面的
人还在睡觉，可是由于夜里那桩惊人的事情，大家变得十分警惕，窗户里传出了一句问话：
    “是谁呀？”
    哈克有点惊魂未定低声答道：
    “请让我进去吧！是哈克·费恩呀！”
    “哦，是你呀，只要你来，白天、黑夜都欢迎你！”
    这个流浪儿以前从没听过这样的话，这也是他有生以来听到的最快乐的话。他想不起来
以前有没有人对他说过“欢迎”一词。门锁很快打开了，他走了进去。主人让哈克坐下，老
人和两个大高个孩子很快穿好衣服。
    “喂，好家伙，我想你一定饿极了。太阳一出来，早饭就好了，咱们可以吃上一顿热气
腾腾的饭，你尽管放心吧！我和孩子们指望你昨晚到我的家来过夜呢。”
    “我吓得不得了，”哈克说，“我跑了，一听见枪响我就跑了。一口气跑出去有三英
里。你瞧，我回来是想问问情况，乘天没大亮来是怕碰上那两个鬼东西，死也不愿碰上。”
    “嗯，可怜虫，看上去昨晚的事情确实让你受了不少苦——吃完早饭后，这里有张床
铺，你可以睡上一觉。那两个家伙还没死，孩子，真不随人愿。你瞧，我们照你说的，知道
该在什么地方对他们下手，所以我们踮着脚走到离他们只有十五英尺的地方——可那绿树丛
黑的像个地窟——而这时我觉得要打喷嚏，真是倒霉透了！我想憋住，可不管事，结果打了
个喷嚏！我是端着枪走在头里的，我惊动了那两个坏蛋，他们沙沙地钻出小路往外走，我大
声说，‘孩子们，开火！’
    对着沙沙声的地方就放了一阵子枪，孩子们也开了枪，可那两个恶棍却溜了，我们穿过
树林一直追过去，我想我们根本没打着他们。他们跑的时候也都放了枪，子弹从我们身边嗖
嗖地飞过去却没有伤着我们。他们跑远了，我们就没有再追上去，只是下山去叫醒了警官。
他们调集了一队人马，部署在河岸上，担任守卫工作。等天亮后，警长还亲自带一帮人到森
林去搜查。我的两个儿子也要跟他们一起去搜查。我很想知道那两个家伙是什么模样，这样
搜查起来要好办些。可是孩子，我想晚上天黑你也没看清他们长相，对吗？”
    “不，我在镇上见过他俩，还跟踪过他们。”
    “太棒了！说说看——孩子——说出他们的特征来！”
    “一个是又聋又哑的西班牙人，有一两次他来过这里，另外一个长相难看，衣衫褴褛—
—”
    “孩子，这就够了，我们认识那两个家伙。有一次在寡妇家后面的树林中碰到过，他们
却偷偷溜掉了。快去吧，孩子们，去告诉警长——明天早晨再吃早饭吧！”
    威尔斯曼的两个孩子立即动身出发。他们走出屋子时，哈克跳起来，大声说道：
    “喂，请你们千万别对任何人讲是我走漏的风声！啊，千万千万不要说是我！”
    “好，你不让说，就不说，可你总该让人家知道你的功劳呀！”
    “不不不，请不要讲！”
    两个年青人走后，威尔斯曼老人说：
    “他们不会说出去，我也不会的。可你为什么不愿让人知道呢？”
    哈克没别的理由，他只是说他认识其中一人，不想让那人知道是他本人在和他作对，否
则肯定要送命的。
    老人再次表示要替他保守秘密，说道：
    “孩子，你怎么会盯梢他俩呢？是不是他们可疑？”
    哈克没作声，心里却在精心编造，好回答他提出的问题。
    他说：
    “您瞧，我是个无可救药的坏家伙，至少大伙是这么说我的，我也不觉得委屈——有时
为了想这个问题，好改一改自己，结果弄得睡也睡不着，昨天晚上就是这样。我睡不着，大
约午夜时来到街上，想着这件事，后来走到禁酒的客栈旁那个老砖厂时，我就靠在墙上又在
想这桩事情。嘿，真巧这时那两个家伙悄悄从我身边溜过，腋下夹着东西，我想一定是偷来
的。一个家伙抽着烟，另外一个要接火。他俩就停在我前边不远，雪茄烟的火光照亮了他们
的脸。借着火光，我认出了那个长白胡子、眼睛上戴着眼罩的家伙是又聋又哑的西班牙人，
另外一个家伙，有点迂腐，衣衫褴褛。”
    “雪茄的火光能让你看清他衣衫褴褛吗？”
    这一问倒一下子难住了哈克。过了片刻后，他又说：
    “嗯，这不太清楚——不过我好像是看清了。”
    “然后他们继续往前走，而你——”
    “对，跟在他们后面，是这样的，我想知道他们要干什么坏事——他们那样偷偷摸摸
的，实在有点不对劲。我一直跟到寡妇家院子的阶梯那里，站在黑暗里听见一个人在替寡妇
求饶，可那西班牙佬发誓破她的相，就像我告诉您和您那两个……”
    “什么，这些是那个又聋又哑的西班牙人说的！”
    哈克又犯了一个大错误！他一直不想让老人知道——哪怕是一点点——西班牙人的情
况，尽管他十分小心，可那张舌头就是不听话，似乎有意给他添麻烦，他几次都想摆脱窘
境，可老人盯着他，结果弄得他一次又一次露了马脚。随后老人说：
    “孩子，别怕我。我不会伤害你一根头毛。相反我要保护你。这个西班牙人既不聋也不
哑，你无意中说了出来，现在瞒也来不及了。你了解那个西班牙人的一些情况，你想隐瞒？
相信我——告诉我吧！请相信我——我不会翻脸不认人的。”
    哈克看了看老人那双真诚的眼睛，过了片刻弯过身去，对着老人低声耳语道：
    “那不是西班牙人，是印第安·乔啊！”
    威尔斯曼听后差点从椅子上跳起来，片刻后他说：
    “现在事情全明白了。你当时说什么撕开鼻子，把耳朵弄个缺口之类的事情，我当时还
以为是你自己故意编出来的，白人们报仇不会这样做的。可这事是涉及到印第安·乔，那就
完全不同了。”
    吃早饭时，他俩继续谈论那事，谈话中老人说上床睡觉前，他和儿子们做的第一件事情
是提着灯到阶梯附近看看有没有血迹，结果血迹没看见，倒找到了一大捆子——。
    “一捆什么？”
    这几个字，就像闪电一般快地从哈克嘴中突然脱口而出，他显得很吃惊，嘴唇发白。他
眼睛瞪得溜溜圆，张着口在等回答。威尔斯曼吃了一惊——瞪着哈克——三秒——五秒——
十秒——然后答道：
    “是强盗作案工具。唉，你怎么了？”
    哈克一下子放松下来，微微喘着气，有一种说不出的如释重负感，威尔斯曼严肃地看着
他，显得迷惑不解，然后接着说：
    “是啊，那是捆强盗作案的工具。你好像放心多了。可你刚才怎么突然变了色！你以为
我们找到了什么？”
    哈克被逼问得够呛——老人用质疑的眼光盯着他——他真愿用一切来换一个似乎能站住
脚的答复——可就是想不出来怎么说好——质疑的眼睛盯得他入骨三分——他不知不觉地想
出了理由——这由不得他再三斟酌。于是，他硬着头皮，捏着嗓子说：
    “主日学校用的教材，也许是的。”
    可怜的哈克显得十分难过的样子，不苟言笑，可老人却开怀大笑，笑得浑身上下直发
抖。最后，他还说这种大笑就等于到手的钱，因为笑口常开无病无灾。他接着补充道：
    “可怜的小伙子，你脸色发白，气色不正，怪不得，你有点发飘，站不稳。不过会好起
来的，我想你只要休息休息，睡睡觉，就好了。”
    哈克一想到自己是只笨鹅，激动得差点露出马脚，他不免有些懊恼。自他在寡妇家的阶
梯处听到那两个家伙说话后，就不再认为从客栈中拿出来的包裹里有财宝。不过这只是他的
猜想，可他并不晓得——里面确实没有财宝——结果在老人提及一捆东西时，他就沉不住气
了。不管怎么说，他还是挺高兴的，至少他现在知道“这捆”毫无疑问不是他要的“那
捆”，这下他心里十分高兴，舒服极了。实际情况也都在朝他希望的方向发展。那财宝一定
还在二号里，那两个家伙当天会被捉住，关到牢里去，而他和汤姆晚上会不费吹灰之力，就
弄到那些金子，根本用不着担心会有人来打搅。
    早饭刚吃完，就有人来敲门。哈克跳起来找藏身的地方。他不想让任何别的人把他和最
近发生的事情联系起来。威尔斯曼让几个女士和绅士进了门，道格拉斯寡妇也来了。老人还
看见有一群人正在往山上爬——以便好看清楚那阶梯，原来人们已经知道这事了。
    老人只好把晚上发生过的情况向在坐的人讲了一遍。寡妇因免遭迫害，也痛痛快快地把
她的感激之情说了出来。“夫人，别提这事了，还有一个人比我和孩子们做得更多，更值得
你感谢。不过他有言在先，不让我说出他的名子，要不是他，我们不会到你那里去。”
    大家的好奇心一下子转到了这方面，但老人守口如瓶，只让大家牢牢地记住这事，再由
他们传遍全城，可就不说出这人是谁。寡妇知道了一切后说：
    “我上床睡觉，在床上看书，外面吵吵闹闹我却睡着了。你们怎么不来把我叫醒？”
    “我们觉得没那必要，那些家伙不可能再回来，——他们没了作案工具。叫醒你，把你
吓个半死又何必呢？后来我派了三个家奴守着你的房子，一直守到天亮。他们刚才回来。”
来的人越来越多，老人一遍又一遍地对大家讲晚上发生的事情，花了有两个多小时才算结束。
    走读学校放假，主日学校也不上课，可是去教堂的人却很早就到了。那桩惊人的事情已
经是满城风雨。有消息说，那两个坏蛋现在连影子都见不着。做完布道，法官撒切尔的夫人
同哈泼夫人一道随着人群顺着过道往外走，边走边说：
    “我那贝基难道要睡一整天不成？我料到她累得要命。”
    “你的贝基？”
    “对呀，”法官太太看上去很吃惊，“昨晚她不是和你住在一起的吗？”
    “和我住的，不，没有。”
    撒切尔太太脸色发白，瘫坐在一把椅子上。这时波莉姨妈从她身旁走过，愉快地边走边
和朋友聊着。
    波莉姨妈说：
    “早晨好，撒切尔太太，早晨好，哈帕太太，我家那个鬼小子人不见了。我想我那个汤
姆昨晚住在你们家中——不知是在你们哪一家。他现在不敢来教堂做礼拜。我得和他算帐。”
    “他没在我们这儿住过。”哈帕说着，看上去显得有些不安，波莉姨妈脸上明显地露出
了焦虑的神色。
    “乔·哈帕，你早上看到我家汤姆了吗？”
    “没有，大婶。”
    “什么时候你最后见过他？”
    乔竭力在想，可说不准。往教堂外走的人现在都停下了脚步。到处窃窃私语，人人脸上
露出不祥的焦虑。大人们迫不及待地询问孩子们和老师们。他们都不敢肯定汤姆和贝基是否
上了回程的船；当时天黑，没人想到问一问人是否全到齐了。有个年青人突然说他们仍在山
洞里，撒切尔夫人当即晕了过去，波莉姨妈捶胸顿足地放声大哭。
    这个惊人的消息一传十，十传百，弄得大街小巷家喻户晓，不到五分钟的工夫，大钟疯
了似地噹噹直响，全镇的人都行动起来。卡第夫山事件随即显得没有多大意义，盗贼的事也
摆到了一边去。大家套上马鞍，给小船配好划手，叫渡船出发，不到半个时辰，全镇就有二
百多个人潮水般顺着公路和河流向山洞涌去。
    那天下午，林子里好像什么也没有，一片沉寂。许多妇女去看波莉姨妈和撒切尔夫人，
想安慰她俩，结果大家一齐骂个不停，这要比安慰人的话更顶用。这一夜全镇显得十分沉
闷，大家都在等消息；但当黎明最后来临时，所有的消息都是一句话：“再送些蜡烛去——
送些吃的。”
    撒切尔夫人几乎神经失常，还有波莉姨妈也是。撒切尔法官从洞中派人传来令人鼓舞的
好消息，可这一点也不能引起大家的兴致。天快亮时老威尔斯曼回了家，他浑身滴满蜡烛
油，蹭满泥土，差点累得精疲力竭。他看见哈克仍睡在那张床上，烧得昏过去。医生们都去
了山洞，因此道格拉斯寡妇来负责照看他。她说她对他一定会尽全力，哈克是好孩子还是坏
孩子，或者不好不坏，那是另一回事，但他属于上帝，上帝的任何东西都应该受到重视。威
尔斯曼说哈克有优点，寡妇说：
    “的确如此，那就是上帝给他留下的记号，上帝从没有放弃给人留下良好的记号，凡经
他手的人，都有良好记号。”
    还没到下午，三三两两的人拖着疲惫的身体回到林里，那些身强力壮的人还在山洞里搜
索。传来的消息只是说以前山洞里没人去过的地方，现在大家都在搜，就连一个角落，一处
裂隙都要彻底地过一遍，错综复杂的迷宫中人们钻来钻去，老远就能看见到处灯光摇曳，喊
声、枪声回荡在阴森可怖的通道里。有个地方，一般游客很少去，人们发现贝基和汤姆的名
字用蜡烛烟熏在石壁上，不远处还有一截油乎乎的发带，撒切尔夫人认出这是贝基的东西，
痛哭流涕。她说这是她女儿留给她的最后一点遗物，再也没有什么别的想头比这更宝贵，因
为当那可怕的死亡降临时，这件东西最后离开她的孩子。有人说洞里远处的地方不时有微光
闪动，然后就是大喊大叫声，接着一二十个男人排着队钻进声音荡漾的通道——结果照例是
空欢喜一场，孩子并不在那里，亮光原来来自搜寻人的灯光。
    漫长的三天三夜过去了，令人焦虑，令人乏味，全村陷入绝望，茫然不知所措。没有心
情干别的事，就连碰巧发现禁酒客栈老板私自藏酒这样令人震惊的事情，众人们几乎都没劲
头。哈克清醒的时候，断断续续地把话题扯到客栈上，最后问道——心里隐约觉得会有最坏
的事情——他发病期间，在禁酒客栈里是否找到了什么。
    “没错，是找到了点东西。”寡妇道。
    哈克一下子从床上吃惊地坐起来，眼睛睁得溜圆。
    “是什么？找到了什么东西？”
    “是酒啊！——现在客栈被查封了。躺下来，孩子——你确实吓了我一大跳呀！”
    “就告诉我一桩事——就一桩事，求您了！那是汤姆·索亚发现的吗？”
    寡妇突然哭起来。“安静点，安静点，孩子，安静点！我早就跟你说过了，不要讲话，
你现在病得很厉害，很虚弱！”
    除酒之外，没发现别的东西。如果找到的是黄金的话，大家准会大谈特谈。足见那财宝
是永远找不到了——永远找不到了！可是她为什么会哭呢？她居然哭，真是不可思议。
    哈克迷迷糊糊地想着这些问题，感到十分疲倦，就睡着了。寡妇自言自语道：
    “唉，他终于睡了，可怜的孩子。是汤姆·索亚找到的！可遗憾的是没人能找到汤
姆·索亚！更糟的是没有几个人还抱有希望或有力气去继续寻找他。”