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?”