"Herbert George Wells. When the Sleeper Wakes" - читать интересную книгу автора

"Yes, Sire."

"What am I to do?" said Graham.

There was a struggle. The stranger's arm appeared, and his hand was
bleeding. His knees came into view over the edge of the funnel. "Stand away
from me," he said, and he dropped rather heavily on his hands and one
shoulder at Graham's feet. The released ventilator whirled noisily. The
stranger rolled over, sprang up nimbly and stood panting, hand to a bruised
shoulder, and with his bright eyes on Graham.

"You are indeed the Sleeper," he said. "I saw you asleep. When it was the
law that anyone might see you."

"I am the man who was in the trance," said Graham. "They have imprisoned me
here. I have been here since I awoke-at least three days."

The intruder seemed about to speak, heard something, glanced swiftly at the
door, and suddenly left Graham and ran towards it, shouting quick
incoherent words. A bright wedge of steel flashed in his hand, and he began
tap, tap, a quick succession of blows upon the hinges. "Mind!" cried a
voice. "Oh!" The voice came from above.

Graham glanced up, saw the soles of two feet, ducked, was struck on the
shoulder by one of them, and a heavy weight bore him to the earth. He fell
on his knees and forward, and the weight went over his head. He knelt up
and saw a second man from above seated before him.

"I did not see you, Sire," panted the man. He rose and assisted Graham to
arise. "Are you hurt, Sire?" he panted. A succession of heavy blows on the
ventilator began, something fell close to Graham's face, and a shivering
edge of white metal danced, fell over, and lay flat upon the floor.

"What is this?" cried Graham, confused and looking at the ventilator. "Who
are you? What are you going to do? Remember, I understand nothing."

"Stand back," said the stranger, and drew him from under the ventilator as
another fragment of metal fell heavily.

" We want you to come, Sire," panted the newcomer, and Graham glancing at
his face again, saw a new cut had changed from white to red on his
forehead, and a couple of little trickles of blood starting therefrom.
"Your people call for you."

"Come where? My people? "

"To the hall about the markets. Your life is in danger here. We have spies.
We learned but just in time. The Council has decided-this very dayeither to
drug or kill you. And everything is ready. The people are drilled, the
wind-vane police, the engineers, and half the way-gearers are with us. We