Атлант расправил плечи
The Concerto of Deliverance
ThebeamofarovingsearchlightstruckRearden’sface,andwhenthelightsweptpasthesawthemanontheroofleaningdown,asifpeeringinhisdirection.Themanwavedtosomeonetoreplacehim,thenvanishedabruptlyfromhispost.
Reardenhurriedonthroughtheshortstretchofdarknessahead—butthen,fromtheside,fromthecrackofanalley,heheardadrunkenvoiceyell,"Thereheis!"andwhirledtoseetwobeefyfiguresadvancinguponhim.Hesawaleering,mindlessfacewithamouthhunglooseinajoylesschuckle,andaclubinarisingfist—heheardthesoundofrunningstepsapproachingfromanotherdirection,heattemptedtoturnhishead,thentheclubcrasheddownonhisskullfrombehind—andinthemomentofsplittingdarkness,whenhewavered,refusingtobelieveit,thenfelthimselfgoingdown,hefeltastrong,protectivearmseizinghimandbreakinghisfall,heheardagunexplodinganinchabovehisear,thenanotherexplosionfromthesameguninthesamesecond,butitseemedfaintanddistant,asifhehadfallendownashaft.
Hisfirstawareness,whenheopenedhiseyes,wasasenseofprofoundserenity.Thenhesawthathewaslyingonacouchinamodern,sternlygraciousroom—then,herealizedthatitwashisofficeandthatthetwomenstandingbesidehimwerethemills’doctorandthesuperintendent.Hefeltadistantpaininhishead,whichwouldhavebeenviolenthadhecaredtonoticeit,andhefeltastripoftapeacrosshishair,onthesideofhishead.
