Aquella nit, a dos quarts de deu, Tom i Sid foren enviats al llit com de costum. Digueren les pregàries, i Sid aviat hagué trencat el son. Tom jeia tot despert i vigilava amb neguitosa impaciència. Quan li semblà que ja era gairebé a trenc de dia, sentí que el rellotge sonava les deu. N'hi havia per desesperar-se. S'hauria bellugat i remenat com els seus nervis li demanaven, però tenia por de despertar Sid. Jagué, doncs, d'allò més quiet i mirant en l'aire, dins l'ombra. Tot era bròfegament silenciós. Aviat començaren a brollar del silenci sorolls apenes perceptibles, que anaven prenent cos. El tic-tac del rellotge esdevingué sensible. Vells prestatges es posaren a cruixir misteriosament. Els graons carriquejaren vagament. Sens dubte, hi havia esperits en campanya. Un ronc acompassat venia sordament de la cambra de la tia Polly. I aleshores començà el xerric enujós d'un grill que cap inventiva humana hauria pogut localitzar. Després vingué el so acompassat i espectral d'un corc, a la paret que hi havia a la capçalera del llit: allò volia dir que els dies d'algú eren comptats. Després l'udol d'un gos llunyà muntà en l'aire de la nit, i fou respost per un udol més vague d'una distància més remota. Tom es trobava a l'agonia. A la fi romangué satisfet que el temps s'hagués exhaurit i l'eternitat s'inaugurés; i començà, a desgrat seu, a ensopir-se; el rellotge cantà les onze, però ell no les sentí. I després comparegué, mesclat amb els somnis a mig formar, un miol sobiranament melangiós. Una finestra veïna que s'obria el trasbalsà. Un crit de: -Ala, brètol!- i el patapam d'una ampolla buida contra el darrera del cobert de fusta de la seva tia el desvetllaren del tot, i al cap d'un minut estava abillat i fora de la finestra, i s'arrossegava per la teulada de la golfa a quatre grapes. Miolà amb precaució una o dues vegades, tot fent via. Després saltà a la teulada del cobert, i d'allà a terra. Veu's allí Huckleberry Finn amb el gat mort. Els nois partiren i desaparegueren en la tenebror. Al cap de mitja hora calcigaven l'alt herbam del cementiri.
AT half-past nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual. They said their prayers, and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake and waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be nearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. He would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he was afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark. Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little, scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The ticking of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to crack mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. And now the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could locate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a death-watch in the wall at the bed's head made Tom shudder--it meant that somebody's days were numbered. Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the night air, and was answered by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an agony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity begun; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven, but he did not hear it. And then there came, mingling with his half-formed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a neighboring window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and the crash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshed brought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed and out of the window and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on all fours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went; then jumped to the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finn was there, with his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in the gloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through the tall grass of the graveyard.
Era un cementiri de la vella mena ponentina, damunt un turó, a vora d'una milla i mitja del poblet. El vorejava un clos atrotinat, fet de taulons, que unes vegades es decantava cap enfora i altres cap endins, però mai no romania test. Herbei i herbotes envaïen tot el cementiri. Totes les velles tombes eren ensorrades. No hi havia una làpida enlloc. Fustes de cim arrodonit, menjades de corcs, feien tentines damunt les tombes, cercant decantades un puntal, i no trobant-ne cap. Allò de «Consagrat a la memòria de...» i així per l'estil, hom ho havia pintat en el seu temps, però hom ja no hauria pogut llegir-ho en el major nombre d'elles, ara, baldament hi hagués hagut més llum.
It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western kind. It was on a hill, about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy board fence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of the time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the whole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not a tombstone on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards staggered over the graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory of" So-and-So had been painted on them once, but it could no longer have been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light.
Un oratjol desmaiat gemegava entre els arbres, i Tom tingué por que fossin els esperits dels morts planyent-se d'ésser destorbats. Els nois enraonaren poc, i només que en una veu que no s'afigurava, perquè l'hora, i l'indret, i la difosa solemnitat, i el silenci oprimien llurs esperits. Trobaren el nou munt alterós que cercaven, i s'aconductaren sota la protecció de tres oms poderosos que creixien aflotonats a unes quantes passes de la tomba.
A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be the spirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talked little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the sharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet of the grave.
Esperaren en silenci una estona, que els semblà ben llarga. La queixa d'una òliba llunyana era l'únic so que trencava el silenci de mort. Les reflexions de Tom li anaven esquifint el cor. Havia d'enraonar, fos com fos. Així és que digué, en un murmuri:
Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting of a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness. Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said in a whisper:
-Hucky! Creieu que els morts se n'agraden que nosaltres siguem aquí?
"Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?"
Huckleberry zumzejà:
Huckleberry whispered:
-Em plauria de saber-ho. És una cosa que corprèn: oi?
"I wisht I knowed. It's awful solemn like, ain't it?"
-Ja ho crec!
"I bet it is."
Després hi hagué una considerable pausa, durant la qual els minyons examinaren interiorment la matèria. Després Tom murmurà:
There was a considerable pause, while the boys canvassed this matter inwardly. Then Tom whispered:
-Escolteu, Hucky: que compteu que ens sent parlar, Hoss Williams?
"Say, Hucky--do you reckon Hoss Williams hears us talking?"
-És clar que sí. Si més no, el seu esperit.
"O' course he does. Least his sperrit does."
Tom, després d'una pausa:
Tom, after a pause:
-Em plauria d'haver dit el senyor Williams. Però no he obrat altrament per cap mala cosa: tothom li diu Hoss.
"I wish I'd said Mister Williams. But I never meant any harm. Everybody calls him Hoss."
-Un cos mort d'aquests, mai pot ésser massa exigent sobre la manera com un hom en parli, Tom.
"A body can't be too partic'lar how they talk 'bout these-yer dead people, Tom."
Això creà un descoratjament, i la conversa finà de bell nou.
This was a damper, and conversation died again.
Aviat Tom agafà el braç de son camarada i digué:
Presently Tom seized his comrade's arm and said:
-Sst!
"Sh!"
-Què hi ha, Tom?- I s'arrambaren amb els cors palpitants.
"What is it, Tom?" And the two clung together with beating hearts.
-Sst! Altra vegada! No ho sentiu?
"Sh! There 'tis again! Didn't you hear it?"
-Jo...
"I--"
-Veieu? Ara ho heu sentit.
"There! Now you hear it."
-Déu meu, Tom! Ja són aquí, ben segur. Què farem?
"Lord, Tom, they're coming! They're coming, sure. What'll we do?"
-Poc ho sé. Creieu que ens llucaran?
"I dono. Think they'll see us?"
-O Tom! Poden veure en la foscor, igual que els gats. Voldria no haver vingut.
"Oh, Tom, they can see in the dark, same as cats. I wisht I hadn't come."
-Oh! No tingueu por. No crec que ens empantaneguin. No fem cap mal. Si estem ben quiets, potser ni se n'adonaran de nosaltres.
"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain't doing any harm. If we keep perfectly still, maybe they won't notice us at all."
-Hi faré el que sàpiga, Tom; però, Déu meu!, tot jo sóc una esgarrifança!
"I'll try to, Tom, but, Lord, I'm all of a shiver."
-Escolteu!
"Listen!"
Els minyons decantaren la testa plegats, i amb prou feines respiraven. Un so apagat de veus surava per l'extrem més distant del cementiri.
The boys bent their heads together and scarcely breathed. A muffled sound of voices floated up from the far end of the graveyard.
-Vegeu! Mireu allí!- murmurà Tom. -Què és allò?
"Look! See there!" whispered Tom. "What is it?"
-Foc del dimoni! O Tom! Això glaça.
"It's devil-fire. Oh, Tom, this is awful."
Algunes incertes figures s'acostaren entre la fosca, tot gronxant una llanterna d'estany d'antiga mena, que clapava el sol amb innombrables antiqüeles de llum. Al cap de poc, Huckleberry zumzejà amb un calfred:
Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging an old-fashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerable little spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with a shudder:
-Son els dimonis, ben segur. En vénen tres! En nom de Déu, Tom, estem perduts! Podeu pregar?
"It's the devils sure enough. Three of 'em! Lordy, Tom, we're goners! Can you pray?"
-Faré per manera, però no tingueu por. No ens faran cap mal.
«Em fico dins el llit per fer-hi un son seguit...»
"I'll try, but don't you be afeard. They ain't going to hurt us. 'Now I lay me down to sleep, I--'"
-Sst!
"Sh!"
-Què passa, Huck?
"What is it, Huck?"
-Són homes! Un n'és, sinó els altres. Un d'ells fa la veu de Muff Potter.
"They're humans! One of 'em is, anyway. One of 'em's old Muff Potter's voice."
-Ca!... Voleu dir?
"No--'tain't so, is it?"
-Faig juguesca de conèixer-la bé. No us remeneu ni us bellugueu. No és prou viu per a reparar-nos. Deu estar embriagat, com de costum, ben segur, aquest vell poca-pena del diastre.
"I bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. He ain't sharp enough to notice us. Drunk, the same as usual, likely--blamed old rip!"
-Molt bé: estaré ben quiet. Ara n'estan lluny. No el poden trobar. Ara tornen a venir. Ara es cremen. Ara es refreden altra vegada. Es cremen un altre cop. Brasa viva! Aquesta vegada ho han ensopegat. Escolteu, Huck: conec una altra de llurs veus: hi ha Joe l'Indi.
"All right, I'll keep still. Now they're stuck. Can't find it. Here they come again. Now they're hot. Cold again. Hot again. Red hot! They're p'inted right, this time. Say, Huck, I know another o' them voices; it's Injun Joe."
-Oi! Aquest mestís assassí! M'estimaria més que fossin dimonis, cent vegades! Per què deuen rondar?
"That's so--that murderin' half-breed! I'd druther they was devils a dern sight. What kin they be up to?"
Els murmuris s'extingiren del tot, aleshores, perquè els tres homes havien arribat a la tomba, i romanien a unes quantes passes de l'amagatall dels dos minyons.
The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three men had reached the grave and stood within a few feet of the boys' hiding-place.
-Aquí és- digué la tercera veu. I son posseïdor alçà la llanterna, que mostrà la faç del jove doctor Robinson.
"Here it is," said the third voice; and the owner of it held the lantern up and revealed the face of young Doctor Robinson.
Potter i Joe l'Indi portaven un baiard, amb una corda i un parell de pales al damunt. Deixaren en terra allò que traginaven, i començaren d'obrir la tomba. El doctor posà la llanterna al cap del lloc d'enterrament i avançà i s'assegué, amb l'esquena recolzada en un dels oms. Estava tan a prop que els minyons l'haurien pogut tocar.
Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a handbarrow with a rope and a couple of shovels on it. They cast down their load and began to open the grave. The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave and came and sat down with his back against one of the elm trees. He was so close the boys could have touched him.
-De pressa, mestres!- Digué en veu baixa.- La lluna podria eixir de cop i volta!
"Hurry, men!" he said, in a low voice; "the moon might come out at any moment."
Rondinaren una resposta, i continuaren cavant. Per algun temps no se sentí més soroll que el xarricar de les pales que descarregaven llur nolieig de terra i arena. Allò era ben monòton. Finalment, una pala topà amb el taüt, fent un so opac i de fusta, i al cap d'un o dos minuts els homes l'havien hissat damunt terra, al defora. Alçapremaren la tapadora amb les pales, tragueren el cos mort, i el rebotaren asprament per terra. La lluna es mogué darrera els núvols i mostrà sa cara esblaimada. El baiard fou endegat, i el cos mort posat al seu damunt, cobert amb una flassada, i fermat amb la corda. Potter es tragué un ganivetàs de molles i tallà el cap de la corda que penjava, i digué:
They growled a response and went on digging. For some time there was no noise but the grating sound of the spades discharging their freight of mould and gravel. It was very monotonous. Finally a spade struck upon the coffin with a dull woody accent, and within another minute or two the men had hoisted it out on the ground. They pried off the lid with their shovels, got out the body and dumped it rudely on the ground. The moon drifted from behind the clouds and exposed the pallid face. The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed on it, covered with a blanket, and bound to its place with the rope. Potter took out a large spring-knife and cut off the dangling end of the rope and then said:
-Ara la cosa damnada està a punt, serra-ossos, i, o bé ens doneu cinc monedes més, o aquí roman.
"Now the cussed thing's ready, Sawbones, and you'll just out with another five, or here she stays."
-Això és parlar!- digué Joe l'Indi.
"That's the talk!" said Injun Joe.
-Ei! Què vol dir, això?- féu el doctor. -Heu demanat la paga per endavant, i us l'he donada.
"Look here, what does this mean?" said the doctor. "You required your pay in advance, and I've paid you."
-Sí, i heu fet quelcom més que això- digué Joe l'Indi, atansant-se al doctor, que ara estava de peu dret. -Em vau treure, fa cinc anys, de la cuina del vostre pare, on avia anat a demanar alguna menja, i vau dir que no hi havia anat per cap bé; i quan vaig fer saber que me la pagaríeu, baldament passessin cent anys, el vostre pare em tancà a la presò per rodamón. Us penseu que me n'he oblidat? Per alguna cosa tinc sang indiana. I ara us he arreplegat, i no teniu més remei que pagar: sabeu?
"Yes, and you done more than that," said Injun Joe, approaching the doctor, who was now standing. "Five years ago you drove me away from your father's kitchen one night, when I come to ask for something to eat, and you said I warn't there for any good; and when I swore I'd get even with you if it took a hundred years, your father had me jailed for a vagrant. Did you think I'd forget? The Injun blood ain't in me for nothing. And now I've got you, and you got to settle, you know!"
Amenaçava al doctor amb el puny a la cara, en aquell moment. El doctor donà un cop sobtat, i estengué el mal home per terra. Potter deixà caure el ganivet i exclamà:
He was threatening the doctor, with his fist in his face, by this time. The doctor struck out suddenly and stretched the ruffian on the ground. Potter dropped his knife, and exclaimed:
-Ei! No toqueu el meu lleopard!- I a l'instant següent s'havia agafat amb el doctor, i tots dos lluitaven amb màxima embranzida, afollant l'herba i esquinçant la terra amb llurs talons. Joe l'Indi saltà a son peu, amb els ulls encesos d'ira, arrabassà el coltell de Potter, i va arrossegar-se com un gat i acotant-se, dant una i altra volta als combatents, cercant una avinentesa. De sobte el doctor pogué romandre desempallegat d'una estrebada, agafà la feixuga fusta del capçal de la tomba de Williams, i amb ella atuí Potter en terra; i, al mateix moment, el mestís veié arribada la seva i enfonsà el ganivet fins el mànec en el pit del jove. Ell giravoltà i caigué en part damunt Potter, amarant-lo amb la seva sang; i en aquell punt els núvols esborraren el paorós espectacle, i els dos minyons, esparverats, fugiren a més córrer dins la fosca.
"Here, now, don't you hit my pard!" and the next moment he had grappled with the doctor and the two were struggling with might and main, trampling the grass and tearing the ground with their heels. Injun Joe sprang to his feet, his eyes flaming with passion, snatched up Potter's knife, and went creeping, catlike and stooping, round and round about the combatants, seeking an opportunity. All at once the doctor flung himself free, seized the heavy headboard of Williams' grave and felled Potter to the earth with it--and in the same instant the half-breed saw his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in the young man's breast. He reeled and fell partly upon Potter, flooding him with his blood, and in the same moment the clouds blotted out the dreadful spectacle and the two frightened boys went speeding away in the dark.
Quan la lluna, ben tost, es mostrà de bell nou, Joe l'Indi romania damunt els dos cossos, tot contemplant-los. El doctor féu un murmuri inarticulat, i un llarg badall d'agonia o bé dos, i restà en silenci. El mestís botzinà:
Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun Joe was standing over the two forms, contemplating them. The doctor murmured inarticulately, gave a long gasp or two and was still. The half-breed muttered:
-Aquells comptes estan saldats, Déu us damni!
"That score is settled--damn you."
Després féu sos robatoris en el cadàver. Després posà el fatal ganivet en l'oberta mà dreta de Potter, i segué damunt el taüt malmenat. Passaren tres, quatre, cinc minuts, i aleshores Potter començà de moure's i de fer gemecs. Sa mà era closa damunt el ganivet: l'aixecà, hi pegà llambregada i el deixà caure amb una esgarrifança. Després s'assegué, apartant-se el cos mort, i el llucà, i després llucà a son volt confosament. Sos ulls toparen els de Joe.
Then he robbed the body. After which he put the fatal knife in Potter's open right hand, and sat down on the dismantled coffin. Three--four--five minutes passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. His hand closed upon the knife; he raised it, glanced at it, and let it fall, with a shudder. Then he sat up, pushing the body from him, and gazed at it, and then around him, confusedly. His eyes met Joe's.
-Senyor! Còm ha estat això, Joe?- demanà.
"Lord, how is this, Joe?" he said.
-És un brut negoci- digué Joe sense bellugar-se.
"It's a dirty business," said Joe, without moving.
-Per què ho heu fet?
"What did you do it for?"
-Jo! I què he d'haver fet!
"I! I never done it!"
-Ei! El parlar així no us en llevarà pas la culpa.
"Look here! That kind of talk won't wash."
Potter tremolà i s'esblanqueí.
Potter trembled and grew white.
-Em pensava que estava serè. No havia d'haver fet beguda aquesta nit. Però encara la tinc al cap, pitjor que quan vam començar la feina. Sento un desori! Amb prou feines puc recordar-me de res. Digueu-me, Joe (de bo de bo, ara, vell company): ho he fet jo? Joe, mai no m'havia passat pel magí; per la meva ànima i la meva honor que mai no m'hi havia passat, Joe. Digueu-me, Joe, còm ha estat. Oh! Esglaia! I ell tan jove i que prometia tant!
"I thought I'd got sober. I'd no business to drink to-night. But it's in my head yet--worse'n when we started here. I'm all in a muddle; can't recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, Joe--honest, now, old feller--did I do it? Joe, I never meant to--'pon my soul and honor, I never meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it's awful--and him so young and promising."
-Ves, estàveu barallant-vos, i ell us va dar una patacada amb la fusta de la tomba, i vau caure d'allò més pla, i després us aixecàreu, tot fent tentines i giravolts, i vau aferrar el ganivet, i l'hi vau apuntalar, mentre ell us ajustava una altra manyagueria que feia feredat. I aquí heu estat jaient fins ara, mort com un tascó.
"Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboard and you fell flat; and then up you come, all reeling and staggering like, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetched you another awful clip--and here you've laid, as dead as a wedge til now."
-Oh! No sabia el que em feia. Que em mori aquest mateix minut, si ho sabia. Tot era cosa del whisky i l'exaltació, em penso. Mai a la vida no havia usat una arma, Joe. He tingut batusses, però mai amb armes. Tothom us ho dirà. Joe, no en cantéssiu res! Digueu que no en cantareu res, Joe: això és ésser un bon amic. Sempre us he tingut estimació, Joe, i he estat al costat vostre. No us en recordeu? No ho cantareu: veritat, Joe?- I la pobra criatura caigué de genolls davant l'estòlid assassí, i ajuntà les mans imploradores.
"Oh, I didn't know what I was a-doing. I wish I may die this minute if I did. It was all on account of the whiskey and the excitement, I reckon. I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I've fought, but never with weepons. They'll all say that. Joe, don't tell! Say you won't tell, Joe--that's a good feller. I always liked you, Joe, and stood up for you, too. Don't you remember? You won't tell, will you, Joe?" And the poor creature dropped on his knees before the stolid murderer, and clasped his appealing hands.
-No: sempre heu estat recte i lleial amb mi, Muff Potter, i no us aniré pas a l'encalç. Ja veieu: això és la més gentil cosa que un hom pugui dir.
"No, you've always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter, and I won't go back on you. There, now, that's as fair as a man can say."
-O Joe! Sóu un àngel! Per molt que visqui sempre us beneiré fins al darrer dia!- I Potter començà de plorar.
"Oh, Joe, you're an angel. I'll bless you for this the longest day I live." And Potter began to cry.
-Bé, bé: ja n'hi ha prou, d'això. Ja no és temps de somicar. Aneu per aquell camí, i jo aniré per aquest. Espavileu-vos, ara, i no deixeu cap pista darrera vostre.
"Come, now, that's enough of that. This ain't any time for blubbering. You be off yonder way and I'll go this. Move, now, and don't leave any tracks behind you."
Potter emprengué un trot que ràpidament es convertí en correguda. El mestís romangué sotjant-lo, i murmurà:
Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to a run. The half-breed stood looking after him. He muttered:
-Si està tan estovat per la pallisa i tan embriagat del rom com en té l'aire, no pensarà en el ganivet fins que sigui tan lluny que ja tingui por de tornar per aquesta banda. Cor de pollet!
"If he's as much stunned with the lick and fuddled with the rum as he had the look of being, he won't think of the knife till he's gone so far he'll be afraid to come back after it to such a place by himself--chicken-heart!"
Dos o tres minuts després, l'home assassinat, el cadàver embolcallat en la flassada, el taüt sense tapadora i la tomba oberta romanien sota l'única inspecció de la lluna. El silenci, aiximateix, era altra vegada absolut.
Two or three minutes later the murdered man, the blanketed corpse, the lidless coffin, and the open grave were under no inspection but the moon's. The stillness was complete again, too.