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"
What
?
!
"
It
was
a
scream
of
plain
shock
.
Francisco
had
shot
to
his
feet
,
past
any
attempt
to
hide
anything
.
"
On
December
fifth
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
said
Rearden
,
stupefied
.
Francisco
leaped
to
the
telephone
.
"
I
told
you
not
to
deal
with
d
’
Anconia
Copper
!
"
It
was
the
half
-
moaning
,
half
-
furious
cry
of
despair
.
His
hand
was
reaching
for
the
telephone
,
but
jerked
back
.
He
grasped
the
edge
of
the
table
,
as
if
to
stop
himself
from
lifting
the
receiver
,
and
he
stood
,
head
down
,
for
how
long
a
time
neither
he
nor
Rearden
could
tell
.
Rearden
was
held
numb
by
the
fact
of
watching
an
agonized
struggle
with
the
motionless
figure
of
a
man
as
its
only
evidence
.
He
could
not
guess
the
nature
of
the
struggle
,
he
knew
only
that
there
was
something
which
Francisco
had
the
power
to
prevent
in
that
moment
and
that
it
was
a
power
which
he
would
not
use
When
Francisco
raised
his
head
,
Rearden
saw
a
face
drawn
by
so
great
a
suffering
that
its
lines
were
almost
an
audible
cry
of
pain
,
the
more
terrible
because
the
face
had
a
look
of
firmness
,
as
if
the
decision
had
been
made
and
this
was
the
price
of
it
.
"
Francisco
.
.
.
what
’
s
the
matter
?
"
"
Hank
,
I
.
.
.
"
He
shook
his
head
,
stopped
,
then
stood
up
straight
.
"
Mr
.
Rearden
,
"
he
said
,
in
a
voice
that
had
the
strength
,
the
despair
and
the
peculiar
dignity
of
a
plea
he
knew
to
be
hopeless
,
"
for
the
time
when
you
’
re
going
to
damn
me
,
when
you
’
re
going
to
doubt
every
word
I
said
.
.
.
I
swear
to
you
—
by
the
woman
I
love
—
that
I
am
your
friend
.
"
The
memory
of
Francisco
’
s
face
as
it
looked
in
that
moment
,
came
back
to
Rearden
three
days
later
,
through
a
blinding
shock
of
loss
and
hatred
—
it
came
back
,
even
though
,
standing
by
the
radio
in
his
office
,
he
thought
that
he
must
now
keep
away
from
the
Wayne
-
Falkland
or
he
would
kill
Francisco
d
’
Anconia
on
sight
—
it
kept
coming
back
to
him
,
through
the
words
he
was
hearing
—
he
was
hearing
that
three
ships
of
d
’
Anconia
copper
,
bound
from
San
Juan
to
New
York
,
had
been
attacked
by
Ragnar
Danneskjold
and
sent
to
the
bottom
of
the
ocean
—
it
kept
coming
back
,
even
though
he
knew
that
much
more
than
the
copper
had
gone
down
for
him
with
those
ships
.
