to be locked, Tom, and there's the window and the rod; but you'll be good, _won't_ you?  And you won't go?  For _my_ sake.” Laws knows I _wanted_ to go bad enough to see about Tom, and was all intending to go; but after that I wouldn't a went, not for kingdoms. But she was on my mind and Tom was on my mind, so I slept very restless. And twice I went down the rod away in the night, and slipped around front, and see her setting there by her candle in the window with her eyes towards the road and the tears in them; and I wished I could do something for her, but I couldn't, only to swear that I wouldn't never do nothing to grieve her any more.  And the third time I waked up at dawn, and slid down, and she was there yet, and her candle was most out, and her old gray head was resting on her hand, and she was asleep. CHAPTER XLII. THE old man was uptown again before breakfast, but couldn't get no track of Tom; and both of them set at the table thinking, and not saying nothing, and looking mournful, and their coffee getting cold, and not eating anything. And by and by the old man says: “Did I give you the letter?” “What letter?” “The one I got yesterday out of the post-office.” “No, you didn't give me no letter.” “Well, I must a forgot it.” So he rummaged his pockets, and then went off somewheres where he had laid it down, and fetched it, and give it to her.  She says: “Why, it's from St. Petersburg--it's from Sis.” I allowed another walk would do me good; but I couldn't stir.  But before she could break it open she dropped it and run--for she see something. And so did I. It was Tom Sawyer on a mattress; and that old doctor; and Jim, in _her_ calico dress, with his hands tied behind him; and a lot of people.  I hid the letter behind the first thing that come handy, and rushed.  She flung herself at Tom, crying, and says: “Oh, he's dead, he's dead, I know he's dead!” And Tom he turned his head a little, and muttered something or other, which showed he warn'