Atlas Shrugged [369]
"The money that was taken from you by force."
He extended the package to Rearden, flipping the burlap open.
Rearden saw the starlight run like fire along a mirror-smooth surface.
He knew, by its weight and texture, that what he held was a bar of solid gold.
He looked from the bar to the man's face, but the face seemed harder and less revealing than the surface of the metal.
"Who are you?" asked Rearden.
"The friend of the friendless."
"Did you come here to give this to me?"
"Yes."
"Do you mean that you had to stalk me at night, on a lonely road, in order, not to rob me, but to hand me a bar of gold?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"When robbery is done in open daylight by sanction of the law, as it is done today, then any act of honor or restitution has to be hidden underground."
"What made you think that I'd accept a gift of this kind?"
"It is not a gift, Mr. Rearden. It is your own money. But I have one favor to ask of you. It is a request, not a condition, because there can be no such thing as conditional property. The gold is yours, so you are free to use it as you please. But I risked my life to bring it to you tonight, so I am asking, as a favor, that you save it for the future or spend it on yourself. On nothing but your own comfort and pleasure. Do not give it away and, above all, do not put it into your business."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want it to be of any benefit to anybody but you.
Otherwise, I will have broken an oath taken long ago-as I am breaking every rule I had set for myself by speaking to you tonight."
"What do you mean?"
"I have been collecting this money for you for a long time. But I did not intend to see you or tell you about it or give it to you until much later."
"Then why did you?"
"Because I couldn't stand it any longer."
"Stand what?"
"I thought that I had seen everything one could see and that there was nothing I could not stand seeing. But when they took Rearden Metal away from you, it was too much, even for me. I know that you don't need this gold at present. What you need is the justice which it represents, and the knowledge that there are men who care for justice."
Struggling not to give in to an emotion which he felt rising through his bewilderment, past all his doubts, Rearden tried to study the man's face, searching for some clue to help him understand. But the face had no expression; it had not changed once while speaking; it looked as if the man had lost the capacity to feel long ago, and what remained of him were only features that seemed implacable and dead. With a shudder of astonishment, Rearden found himself thinking that it was not the face of a man, but of an avenging angel.
"Why did you care?" asked Rearden. "What do I mean to you?"
"Much more than you have reason to suspect. And I have a friend to whom you mean much more than you will ever learn. He would have given anything to stand by you today. But he can't come to you. So I came in his place."
"What friend?"
"I prefer not to name him."
"Did you say that you've spent a long time collecting this money for me?"
"I have collected much more than this." He pointed at the gold. "I am holding it in your name and I will turn it over to you when the time comes. This is only a sample, as proof that it does exist. And if you reach the day when you find yourself robbed of the last of your fortune, I want you to remember that you have a large bank account waiting for you."
"What account?"
"If you try to think of all the money that has been taken from you by force, you will know that your account represents a considerable sum."
"How did you collect it? Where did this gold come from?"
"It was taken from those who robbed you."
"Taken by whom?"
"By me."
"Who are you?"
"Ragnar Danneskjold."
Rearden looked at him for a long, still moment, then let the gold fall out of his hands.
Danneskjold's eyes did not follow it to the ground, but remained fixed on Rearden with no change of expression. "Would you rather I were a law-abiding citizen, Mr. Rearden? If so, which law should I abide by? Directive 10-289?"
"Ragnar