"They are hunting for us," said Tom. "The village thinks we are drowned." Joe wanted to go home, and Huck said nothing, but Tom had a plan and would not tell it. That night he swam and rowed across to the village and crept under his aunt's bed. He heard Aunt Polly crying and telling Mrs Harper what a good-hearted boy he had been, and he nearly came out and showed himself. But he did not. On Sunday morning the bell was tolling for the funeral. The church was full, and the minister spoke of the three lost boys as though they had been angels. Then the door creaked, and Tom, Joe and Huck walked up the aisle in their ragged clothes. Aunt Polly fell upon Tom and smothered him with kisses, and the whole congregation sang the doxology with all its might.