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- Стр. 891/1581
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"
Oh
.
.
.
A
sensible
precaution
,
Mr
.
Rearden
,
in
times
like
these
.
Good
night
,
sir
.
"
The
motor
jerked
forward
.
The
red
taillights
of
the
car
went
shrinking
down
the
road
.
Danneskjold
watched
it
go
,
then
glanced
pointedly
at
Rearden
’
s
right
hand
.
Rearden
realized
that
he
had
stood
facing
the
policemen
with
his
hand
clutching
the
gun
in
his
pocket
and
that
he
had
been
prepared
to
use
it
.
He
opened
his
fingers
and
drew
his
hand
out
hastily
.
Danneskjold
smiled
.
It
was
a
smile
of
radiant
amusement
,
the
silent
laughter
of
a
clear
,
young
spirit
greeting
a
moment
it
was
glad
to
have
lived
.
And
although
the
two
did
not
resemble
each
other
,
the
smile
made
Rearden
think
of
Francisco
d
’
Anconia
.
"
You
haven
’
t
told
a
lie
,
"
said
Ragnar
Danneskjold
.
"
Your
bodyguard
—
that
’
s
what
I
am
and
what
I
’
ll
deserve
to
be
,
in
many
more
ways
than
you
can
know
at
present
.
Thanks
,
Mr
.
Rearden
,
and
so
long
—
we
’
ll
meet
again
much
sooner
than
I
had
hoped
.
"
He
was
gone
before
Rearden
could
answer
.
He
vanished
beyond
the
stone
fence
,
as
abruptly
and
soundlessly
as
he
had
come
.
When
Rearden
turned
to
look
through
the
farm
field
,
there
was
no
trace
of
him
and
no
sign
of
movement
anywhere
in
the
darkness
.
Rearden
stood
on
the
edge
of
an
empty
road
in
a
spread
of
loneliness
vaster
than
it
had
seemed
before
.
Then
he
saw
,
lying
at
his
feet
,
an
object
wrapped
in
burlap
,
with
one
corner
exposed
and
glistening
in
the
moonlight
,
the
color
of
the
pirate
’
s
hair
.
He
bent
,
picked
it
up
and
walked
on
.
Kip
Chalmers
swore
as
the
train
lurched
and
spilled
his
cocktail
over
the
table
top
.
