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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Стр. 56/67
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Challenger
pointed
the
latter
placard
out
to
his
wife
,
as
it
thrust
itself
like
a
banner
above
the
throng
.
I
could
see
him
throw
out
his
chest
and
stroke
his
beard
as
he
looked
at
it
.
It
pleased
and
flattered
that
complex
mind
to
think
that
London
had
died
with
his
name
and
his
words
still
present
in
their
thoughts
.
His
feelings
were
so
evident
that
they
aroused
the
sardonic
comment
of
his
colleague
.
"
In
the
limelight
to
the
last
,
Challenger
,
"
he
remarked
.
"
So
it
would
appear
,
"
he
answered
complacently
.
"
Well
,
"
he
added
as
he
looked
down
the
long
vista
of
the
radiating
streets
,
all
silent
and
all
choked
up
with
death
,
"
I
really
see
no
purpose
to
be
served
by
our
staying
any
longer
in
London
.
I
suggest
that
we
return
at
once
to
Rotherfield
and
then
take
counsel
as
to
how
we
shall
most
profitably
employ
the
years
which
lie
before
us
.
"
Only
one
other
picture
shall
I
give
of
the
scenes
which
we
carried
back
in
our
memories
from
the
dead
city
.
It
is
a
glimpse
which
we
had
of
the
interior
of
the
old
church
of
St
.
Mary
’
s
,
which
is
at
the
very
point
where
our
car
was
awaiting
us
.
Picking
our
way
among
the
prostrate
figures
upon
the
steps
,
we
pushed
open
the
swing
door
and
entered
.
It
was
a
wonderful
sight
.
The
church
was
crammed
from
end
to
end
with
kneeling
figures
in
every
posture
of
supplication
and
abasement
.
At
the
last
dreadful
moment
,
brought
suddenly
face
to
face
with
the
realities
of
life
,
those
terrific
realities
which
hang
over
us
even
while
we
follow
the
shadows
,
the
terrified
people
had
rushed
into
those
old
city
churches
which
for
generations
had
hardly
ever
held
a
congregation
.
There
they
huddled
as
close
as
they
could
kneel
,
many
of
them
in
their
agitation
still
wearing
their
hats
,
while
above
them
in
the
pulpit
a
young
man
in
lay
dress
had
apparently
been
addressing
them
when
he
and
they
had
been
overwhelmed
by
the
same
fate
.
He
lay
now
,
like
Punch
in
his
booth
,
with
his
head
and
two
limp
arms
hanging
over
the
ledge
of
the
pulpit
.
It
was
a
nightmare
,
the
grey
,
dusty
church
,
the
rows
of
agonized
figures
,
the
dimness
and
silence
of
it
all
.
We
moved
about
with
hushed
whispers
,
walking
upon
our
tip
-
toes
.
And
then
suddenly
I
had
an
idea
.
At
one
corner
of
the
church
,
near
the
door
,
stood
the
ancient
font
,
and
behind
it
a
deep
recess
in
which
there
hung
the
ropes
for
the
bell
-
ringers
.
Why
should
we
not
send
a
message
out
over
London
which
would
attract
to
us
anyone
who
might
still
be
alive
?
I
ran
across
,
and
pulling
at
the
list
-
covered
rope
,
I
was
surprised
to
find
how
difficult
it
was
to
swing
the
bell
.
Lord
John
had
followed
me
.
"
By
George
,
young
fellah
!
"
said
he
,
pulling
off
his
coat
.
"
You
’
ve
hit
on
a
dooced
good
notion
.
Give
me
a
grip
and
we
’
ll
soon
have
a
move
on
it
.
"
But
,
even
then
,
so
heavy
was
the
bell
that
it
was
not
until
Challenger
and
Summerlee
had
added
their
weight
to
ours
that
we
heard
the
roaring
and
clanging
above
our
heads
which
told
us
that
the
great
clapper
was
ringing
out
its
music
.
Far
over
dead
London
resounded
our
message
of
comradeship
and
hope
to
any
fellow
-
man
surviving
.
It
cheered
our
own
hearts
,
that
strong
,
metallic
call
,
and
we
turned
the
more
earnestly
to
our
work
,
dragged
two
feet
off
the
earth
with
each
upward
jerk
of
the
rope
,
but
all
straining
together
on
the
downward
heave
,
Challenger
the
lowest
of
all
,
bending
all
his
great
strength
to
the
task
and
flopping
up
and
down
like
a
monstrous
bull
-
frog
,
croaking
with
every
pull
.
It
was
at
that
moment
that
an
artist
might
have
taken
a
picture
of
the
four
adventurers
,
the
comrades
of
many
strange
perils
in
the
past
,
whom
fate
had
now
chosen
for
so
supreme
an
experience
.
For
half
an
hour
we
worked
,
the
sweat
dropping
from
our
faces
,
our
arms
and
backs
aching
with
the
exertion
.
Then
we
went
out
into
the
portico
of
the
church
and
looked
eagerly
up
and
down
the
silent
,
crowded
streets
.
Not
a
sound
,
not
a
motion
,
in
answer
to
our
summons
.
"
It
’
s
no
use
.
No
one
is
left
,
"
I
cried
.
"
We
can
do
nothing
more
,
"
said
Mrs
.
Challenger
.
"
For
God
’
s
sake
,
George
,
let
us
get
back
to
Rotherfield
.
Another
hour
of
this
dreadful
,
silent
city
would
drive
me
mad
.
"
