They came down to the mouth of the cave, where a light shone out from the edge of a blanket that hung over the opening. The two packs were at the foot of the tree covered with a canvas and Robert Jordan knelt down and felt the canvas wet and stiff over them. In the dark he felt under the canvas in the outside pocket of one of the packs and took out a leather-covered flask1 and slipped it in his pocket. Unlocking the long barred padlocks that passed through the grommet that closed the opening of the mouth of the packs, and untying2 the drawstring at the top of each pack, he felt inside them and verified their contents with his hands. Deep in one pack he felt the bundled blocks in the sacks, the sacks wrapped in the sleeping robe, and tying the strings3 of that and pushing the lock shut again, he put his hands into the other and felt the sharp wood outline of the box of the old exploder, the cigar box with the caps, each little cylinder4 wrapped round and round with its two wires (the lot of them packed as carefully as he had packed his collection of wild bird eggs when he was a boy), the stock of the submachine gun, disconnected from the barrel and wrapped in his leather jacket, the two pans and five clips in one of the inner pockets of the big pack-sack arid5 the small coils of copper6 wire and the big coil of light insulated Wire in the other. In the pocket with the wire he felt his pliers and the two wooden awls for making holes in the end of the blocks and then, from the last inside pocket, he took a big box of the Russian cigarettes of the lot he had from Golz's headquarters and tying the mouth of the pack shut, he pushed the lock in, buckled7 the flaps down and again covered both packs with the canvas. Anselmo had gone on into the cave.
Robert Jordan stood up to follow him, then reconsidered and, lifting the canvas off the two packs, picked them up, one in each hand, and started with them, just able to carry them, for the mouth of the cave. He laid one pack down and lifted the blanket aside, then with his head stooped and with a pack in each hand, carrying by the leather shoulder straps8, he went into the cave.
It was warm and smoky in the cave. There was a table along one wall with a tallow candle stuck in a bottle on it and at the table were seated Pablo, three men he did not know, and the gypsy, Rafael. The candle made shadows on the wall behind the men and Anselmo stood where he had come in to the right of the table. The wife of Pablo was standing9 over the charcoal10 fire on the open fire hearth11 in the corner of the cave. The girl knelt by her stirring in an iron pot. She lifted the wooden spoon out and looked at Robert Jordan as he stood there in the doorway12 and he saw, in the glow from the fire the woman was blowing with a bellows13, the girl's face, her arm and the drops running down from the spoon and dropping into the iron pot.
"What do you carry?" Pablo said.
"My things," Robert Jordan said and set the two packs down a little way apart where the cave opened out on the side away from the table.
"Are they not well outside?" Pablo asked.
"Some one might trip over them in the dark," Robert Jordan said and walked over to the table and laid the box of cigarettes on it.
"I do not like to have dynamite14 here in the cave," Pablo said.
"It is far from the fire," Robert Jordan said. "Take some cigarettes." He ran his thumbnail along the side of the paper box with the big colored figure of a warship15 on the cover and pushed the box toward Pablo.
Anselmo brought him a rawhide-covered stool and he sat down at the table. Pablo looked at him as though he were going to speak again, then reached for the cigarettes.
Robert Jordan pushed them toward the others. He was not looking at them yet. But he noted17 one man took cigarettes and two did not. All of his concentration was on Pablo.
"How goes it, gypsy?" he said to Rafael.
"Good," the gypsy said. Robert Jordan could tell they had been talking about him when he came in. Even the gypsy was not at ease.
"She is going to let you eat again?" Robert Jordan asked the gypsy.
"Yes. Why not?" the gypsy said. It was a long way from the friendly joking they had together in the afternoon.
The woman of Pablo said nothing and went on blowing up the coals of the fire.
"One called Agust璯 says he dies of boredom18 above," Robert Jordan said.
"That doesn't kill," Pablo said. "Let him die a little."
"Is there wine?" Robert Jordan asked the table at large, leaning forward, his hands on the table.
"There is little left," Pablo said sullenly20. Robert Jordan decided21 he had better look at the other three and try to see where he stood.
"In that case, let me have a cup of water. Thou," he called to the girl. "Bring me a cup of water."
The girl looked at the woman, who said nothing, and gave no sign of having heard, then she went to a kettle containing water and dipped a cup full. She brought it to the table and put it down before him. Robert Jordan smiled at her. At the same time he sucked in on his stomach muscles and swung a little to the left on his stool so that his pistol slipped around on his belt closer to where he wanted it. He reached his hand down toward his hip16 pocket and Pablo watched him. He knew they all were watching him, too, but he watched only Pablo. His hand came up from the hip pocket with the leather-covered flask and he unscrewed the top and then, lifting the cup, drank half the water and poured very Slowly from the flask into the cup.
"It is too strong for thee or I would give thee some," he said to the girl and smiled at her again. "There is little left or I would offer some to thee," he said to Pablo.
"I do not like anis," Pablo said.
The acrid22 smell had carried across the table and he had picked out the one familiar component23.
"Good," said Robert Jordan. "Because there is very little left."
"What drink is that?" the gypsy asked.
"A medicine," Robert Jordan said. "Do you want to taste it?"
"What is it for?"
"For everything," Robert Jordan said. "It cures everything. If you have anything wrong this will cure it."
"Let me taste it," the gypsy said.
Robert Jordan pushed the cup toward him. It was a milky24 yellow now with the water and he hoped the gypsy would not take more than a swallow. There was very little of it left and one cup of it took the place of the evening papers, of all the old evenings in caf廥, of all chestnut25 trees that would be in bloom now in this month, of the great slow horses of the outer boulevards, of book shops, of kiosques, and of galleries, of the Parc Montsouris, of the Stade Buffalo26, and of the Butte Chaumont, of the Guaranty Trust Company and the Ile de la Cite, of Foyot's old hotel, and of being able to read and relax in the evening; of all the things he had enjoyed and forgotten and that came back to him when he tasted that opaque27, bitter, tongue-numbing, brain-warming, stomach-warming, idea-changing liquid alchemy.
The gypsy made a face and handed the cup back. "It smells of anis but it is bitter as gall," he said. "It is better to be sick than have that medicine."
"That's the wormwood," Robert Jordan told him. "In this, the real absinthe, there is wormwood. It's supposed to rot your brain out but I don't believe it. It only changes the ideas. You should pour water into it very slowly, a few drops at a time. But I poured it into the water."
"What are you saying?" Pablo said angrily, feeling the mockery.
"Explaining the medicine," Robert Jordan told him and grinned. "I bought it in Madrid. It was the last bottle and it's lasted me three weeks." He took a big swallow of it and felt it coasting over his tongue in delicate anxsthesia. He looked at Pablo and grinned again.
"How's business?" he asked.
Pablo did not answer and Robert Jordan looked carefully at the other three men at the table. One had a large flat face, flat and brown as a Serrano ham with a nose flattened28 and broken, and the long thin Russian cigarette, projecting at an angle, made the face look even flatter. This man had short gray hair and a gray stubble of beard and wore the usual black smock buttoned at the neck. He looked down at the table when Robert Jordan looked at him but his eyes were steady and they did not blink. The other two were evidently brothers. They looked much alike and were both short, heavily built, dark haired, their hair growing low on their foreheads, dark-eyed and brown. One had a scar across his forehead above his left eye and as he looked at them, they looked back at him steadily29. One looked to be about twenty-six or -eight, the other perhaps two years older.
"What are you looking at?" one brother, the one with the scar, asked.
"Thee," Robert Jordan said.
"Do you see anything rare?"
"No," said Robert Jordan. "Have a cigarette?"
"Why not?" the brother said. He had not taken any before. "These are like the other had. He of the train."
"Were you at the train?"
"We were all at the train," the brother said quietly. "All except the old man."
"That is what we should do now," Pablo said. "Another train."
"We can do that," Robert Jordan said. "After the bridge."
He could see that the wife of Pablo had turned now from the fire and was listening. When he said the word "bridge" every one was quiet.
"After the bridge," he said again deliberately30 and took a sip31 of the absinthe. I might as well bring it on, he thought. It's coming anyWay.
"I do not go for the bridge," Pablo said, looking down at the table. "Neither me nor my people."
Robert Jordan said nothing. He looked at Anselmo and raised the cup. "Then we shall do it alone, old one," he said and smiled.
"Without this coward," Anselmo said.
"What did you say?" Pablo spoke32 to the old man.
"Nothing for thee. I did not speak to thee," Anselmo told him.
Robert Jordan now looked past the table to where the wife of Pablo was standing by the fire. She had said nothing yet, nor given any sign. But now she said something he could not hear to the girl and the girl rose from the cooking fire, slipped along the wall, opened the blanket that hung over the mouth of the cave and went out. I think it is going to come now, Robert Jordan thought. I believe this is it. I did not want it to be this way but this seems to be the way it is.
"Then we will do the bridge without thy aid," Robert Jordan said to Pablo.
"No," Pablo said, and Robert Jordan watched his face sweat. "Thou wilt33 blow no bridge here."
"No?"
"Thou wilt blow no bridge," Pablo said heavily.
"And thou?" Robert Jordan spoke to the wife of Pablo who was standing, still and huge, by the fire. She turned toward them and said, "I am for the bridge." Her face was lit by the fire and it was flushed and it shone warm and dark and handsome now in the firelight as it was meant to be.
"What do you say?" Pablo said to her and Robert Jordan saw the betrayed look on his face and the sweat on his forehead as he turned his head.
"I am for the bridge and against thee," the wife of Pablo said. "Nothing more."
"I am also for the bridge," the man with the flat face and the broken nose said, crushing the end of the cigarette on the table.
"To me the bridge means nothing," one of the brothers said. "I am for the _mujer_ of Pablo."
"Equally," said the other brother.
"Equally," the gypsy said.
Robert Jordan watched Pablo and as he watched, letting his right hand hang lower and lower, ready if it should be necessary, half hoping it would be (feeling perhaps that were the simplest and easiest yet not wishing to spoil what had gone so well, knowing how quickly all of a family, all of a clan34, all of a band, can turn against a stranger in a quarrel, yet thinking what could be done with the hand were the simplest and best and surgically35 the most sound now that this had happened), saw also the wife of Pablo standing there and watched her blush proudly and soundly and healthily as the allegiances were given.
"I am for the Republic," the woman of Pablo said happily. "And the Republic is the bridge. Afterwards we will have time for other projects."
"And thou," Pablo said bitterly. "With your head of a seed bull and your heart of a whore. Thou thinkest there will be an afterwards from this bridge? Thou hast an idea of that which will pass?"
"That which must pass," the woman of Pablo said. "That which must pass, will pass."
"And it means nothing to thee to be hunted then like a beast after this thing from which we derive36 no profit? Nor to die in it?"
"Nothing," the woman of Pablo said. "And do not try to frighten me, coward."
"Coward," Pablo said bitterly. "You treat a man as coward because he has a tactical sense. Because he can see the results of an idiocy37 in advance. It is not cowardly to know what is foolish."
"Neither is it foolish to know what is cowardly," said Anselmo, unable to resist making the phrase.
"Do you want to die?" Pablo said to him seriously and Robert Jordan saw how unrhetorical was the question.
"No."
"Then watch thy mouth. You talk too much about things you do not understand. Don't you see that this is serious?" he said almost pitifully. "Am I the only one who sees the seriousness of this?"
I believe so, Robert Jordan thought. Old Pablo, old boy, I believe so. Except me. You can see it and I see it and the woman read it in my hand but she doesn't see it, yet. Not yet she doesn't see it.
"Am I a leader for nothing?" Pablo asked. "I know what I speak of. You others do not know. This old man talks nonsense. He is an old man who is nothing but a messenger and a guide for foreigners. This foreigner comes here to do a thing for the good of the foreigners. For his good we must be sacrificed. I am for the good and the safety of all."
"Safety," the wife of Pablo said. "There is no such thing as safety. There are so many seeking safety here now that they make a great danger. In seeking safety now you lose all."
She stood now by the table with the big spoon in her hand.
"There is safety," Pablo said. "Within the danger there is the safety of knowing what chances to take. It is like the bullfighter who knowing what he is doing, takes no chances and is safe."
"Until he is gored38," the woman said bitterly. "How many times have I heard matadors39 talk like that before they took a goring40. How often have I heard Finito say that it is all knowledge and that the bull never gored the man; rather the man gored himself on the horn of the bull. Always do they talk that way in their arrogance41 before a goring. Afterwards we visit them in the clinic." Now she was mimicking42 a visit to a bedside, "Hello, old timer. Hello," she boomed. Then, "_Buenas, Compadre_. How goes it, Pilar?" imitating the weak voice of the wounded bullfighter. "How did this happen, Finito, Chico, how did this dirty accident occur to thee?" booming it out in her own voice. Then talking weak and small, "It is nothing, woman. Pilar, it is nothing. It shouldn't have happened. I killed him very well, you understand. Nobody could have killed him better. Then having killed him exactly as I should and him absolutely dead, swaying on his legs, and ready to fall of his own weight, I walked away from him with a certain amount of arrogance and much style and from the back he throws me this horn between the cheeks of my buttocks and it comes out of my liver." She commenced to laugh, dropping the imitation of the almost effeminate bullfighter's voice and booming again now. "You and your safety! Did I live nine years with three of the worst paid matadors in the world not to learn about fear and about safety? Speak to me of anything but safety. And thee. What illusions I put in thee and how they have turned out! From one year of war thou has become lazy, a drunkard and a coward."
"In that way thou hast no right to speak," Pablo said. "And less even before the people and a stranger."
"In that way will I speak," the wife of Pablo went on. "Have you not heard? Do you still believe that you command here?"
"Yes," Pablo said. "Here I command."
"Not in joke," the woman said. "Here I command! Haven't you heard _la gente?_ Here no one commands but me. You can stay if you wish and eat of the food and drink of the wine, but not too bloody43 much, and share in the work if thee wishes. But here I command."
"I should shoot thee and the foreigner both," Pablo said suilenly.
"Try it," the woman said. "And see what happens."
"A cup of water for me," Robert Jordan said, not taking his eyes from the man with his sullen19 heavy head and the woman standing proudly and confidently holding the big spoon as authoritatively44 as though it were a baton45.
"Maria," called the woman of Pablo and when the girl came in the door she said, "Water for this comrade."
Robert Jordan reached for his flask and, bringing the flask out, as he brought it he loosened the pistol in the holster and swung it on top of his thigh46. He poured a second absinthe into his cup and took the cup of water the girl brought him and commenced to drip it into the cup, a little at a time. The girl stood at his elbow, watching him.
"Outside," the woman of Pablo said to her, gesturing with the spoon.
"It is cold outside," the girl said, her cheek close to Robert Jordan's, watching what was happening in the cup where the liquor was clouding.
"Maybe," the woman of Pablo said. "But in here it is too hot." Then she said, kindly47, "It is not for long."
The girl shook her head and went out.
I don't think he is going to take this much more, Robert Jordan thought to himself. He held the cup in one hand and his other hand rested, frankly48 now, on the pistol. He had slipped the safety catch and he felt the worn comfort of the checked grip chafed49 almost smooth and touched the round, cool companionship of the trigger guard. Pablo no longer looked at him but only at the woman. She went on, "Listen to me, drunkard. You understand who commands here?"
"I command."
"No. Listen. Take the wax from thy hairy ears. Listen well. I command."
Pablo looked at her and you could tell nothing of what he was thinking by his face. He looked at her quite deliberately and then he looked across the table at Robert Jordan. He looked at him a long time contemplatively and then he looked back at the woman, again.
"All right. You command," he said. "And if you want he can command too. And the two of you can go to hell." He was looking the woman straight in the face and he was neither dominated by her nor seemed to be much affected50 by her. "It is possible that I am lazy and that I drink too much. You may consider me a coward but there you are mistaken. But I am not stupid." He paused. "That you should command and that you should like it. Now if you are a woman as well as a commander, that we should have something to eat."
"Maria," the woman of Pablo called.
The girl put her head inside the blanket across the cave mouth. "Enter now and serve the supper."
The girl came in and walked across to the low table by the hearth and picked up the enameled-ware bowls and brought them to the table.
"There is wine enough for all," the woman of Pablo said to Robert Jordan. "Pay no attention to what that drunkard says. When this is finished we will get more. Finish that rare thing thou art drinking and take a cup of wine."
Robert Jordan swallowed down the last of the absinthe, feeling it, gulped51 that way, making a warm, small, fume-rising, wet, chemicalchange-producing heat in him and passed the cup for wine. The girl dipped it full for him and smiled.
"Well, did you see the bridge?" the gypsy asked. The others, who had not opened their mouths after the change of allegiance, were all leaning forward to listen now.
"Yes," Robert Jordan said. "It is something easy to do. Would you like me to show you?"
"Yes, man. With much interest."
Robert Jordan took out the notebook from his shirt pocket and showed them the sketches52.
"Look how it seems," the flat-faced man, who was named Primitivo, said. "It is the bridge itself."
Robert Jordan with the point of the pencil explained how the bridge should be blown and the reason for the placing of the charges.
"What simplicity," the scarred-faced brother, who was called Andr廥, said. "And how do you explode them?"
Robert Jordan explained that too and, as he showed them, he felt the girl's arm resting on his shoulder as she looked. The woman of Pablo was watching too. Only Pablo took no interest, sitting by himself with a cup of wine that he replenished53 by dipping into the big bowl Maria had filled from the wineskin that hung to the left of the entrance to the cave.
"Hast thou done much of this?" the girl asked Robert Jordan softly.
"Yes."
"And can we see the doing of it?"
"Yes. Why not?"
"You will see it," Pablo said from his end of the table. "I believe that you will see it."
"Shut up," the woman of Pablo said to him and suddenly remembering what she had seen in the hand in the afternoon she was wildly, unreasonably54 angry. "Shut up, coward. Shut up, bad luck bird. Shut up, murderer."
"Good," Pablo said. "I shut up. It is thou who commands now and you should continue to look at the pretty pictures. But remember that I am not stupid."
The woman of Pablo could feel her rage changing to sorrow and to a feeling of the thwarting55 of all hope and promise. She knew this feeling from when she was a girl and she knew the things that caused it all through her life. It came now suddenly and she put it away from her and would not let it touch her, neither her nor the Republic, and she said, "Now we will eat. Serve the bowls from the pot, Maria."
他们下山来到山洞口，一道光线从挂在洞口的毯子边缘透出来。两个背包还在树脚边，上面盖着帆布。罗伯特。乔丹跪下来,摈到兼在背包上的帆布又潮又硬。黑暗中，他在帆布下一个背包外面的口袋里摸索，掏出一只有皮套的扃酒瓶,并把它插在衣袋里。背包是由串在背包口上的金属扣眼里的长抦挂锁锁住的,他打开锁,解开系在每个背包。上的绳子，把手伸进去,摸摸里面的东西有没有短少。他把手伸到一个背包的底部，換到了捆好的一个个炸药包，那是裹在睡袋里的；他系上背包口上的绳子，再把它锁上，然后伸手到另一个背包里，摸到了那只放旧引爆器的硬邦邦的木盒,装雷管的雪茄烟盒,每个圃柱形的雷管外面都有两根锎线团团绕住〈这—切都放得整整齐齐,就象他小时候收集的野鸟蛋那样〉,他还摸到从手提机枪上卸下来的包在他皮茄兖里的枪托，装在大背包内袋里的两个子弹盘和五个子。”弹夹，以及另 个内袋里的几小卷锎丝和一大卷细漆包线。他在藏电线的内袋里摈到了老虎钳和两把在炸药包一端钻涧用的木头锥子；接着从最后一个内袋里掏出一大盒从戈尔兹的司令部弄来的俄国香畑。他扎紧背包口，插上挂锁，扣上背包盖，再用帆布盖上这两个背包。安塞尔莫已到山涧里去了。
罗伯特，乔丹站起身想跟他进去，接着又想了想，揭去两个背包上的帆布，一手各提一个，勉强地朝山洞口走去。到了洞口，他放下一个背包，撩幵门毯，然后弯了腰，一手提着一个背包的皮带,进入山洞里。
洞里很暖和，烟雾缭绕。沿洞壁有一张桌子，上面有一个插着一支牛腊烛的瓶子，坐在桌边的是巴勃罗，三个他不认识的人和吉普赛人拉斐尔。烛光在洞壁上投射着他们的影子，安塞尔莫还站在桌子右边他刚才进来时的地方。巴勃罗的老婆站在洞犄角生炭火的炉灶边。那姑娘晚在她身旁，搅动着一只铁锅里的东西。她把木汤匙拿出来，望着这时站在门口的罗伯特。乔丹。”他借炉火的光看到那妇人在拉风箱，看到姑娘的脸和一条手臂，汤汁从汤匙中滴下来，滴入铁锅 “你提着什么东西?”巴勃罗问。
“我的东西，”罗伯特 乔丹说，在桌子对面山洞比较开阔的地方放下了背包,两个背包隔开-些距离。“放在外面不是满好吗?”巴勃罗问。“人家可能在黑暗中绊着，”罗伯特.乔丹说着，走到桌子边，把那盒香烟放在桌上。
“我不喜欢把炸药放在这儿洞里,”巴勃罗说。“离炉火远着呢，”罗伯特一乔丹说。“拿几支烟吧。〃他用拇指指甲划开兼上印有 艘彩色大兵舰的纸食 边的封。，把它推到巴勃罗面前，安塞尔莫给他搬来一只蒙着生皮的凳子，他就在桌边坐下来。巴勃罗望着他，好象有话要说，却伸手去拿烟卷，
罗伯待〃乔丹随即把烟卷推向别人面前。他并不正眼打量他们。不过他觉察到有一个人拿了烟卷，两个人没拿。他的注意力全集中在巴勃罗一人身上。
“情况怎么样，吉普赛人？”他对拉斐尔说。“不坏，”吉普赛人说，罗伯特，乔丹看得出，他进来的时候,他们正在议论他。连吉普赛人也局伲不安。
“她打算让你再吃呜？”罗伯持 乔丹问吉普赛人。“是呀。干吗不。”吉普赛人说。这时的气氛和他们下午友好地又说又笑大不相同了。“
巴勃罗的老婆一句话也没说，只顾拉风箱、扇炭火，“有个叫奥古斯丁的说，他在山上厌倦得要死。“罗伯特，乔丹说。
“死不了，”巴勃罗说。“让他死一会儿也好。”“有酒吗”罗伯特 乔丹把身体朝前靠，手搁在桌上，向大伙儿随便问。
“剩下不多了。“巴勃罗阴郁地说。罗伯特 乔丹决定,他还不如观察一下另外三个人的神情,来判断自己的处塊怎么样。“既然这样，就让我喝杯水 你。“他叫那姑娘,“给我来杯水。“
姑娘望望那妇人,妇人一声不吭，只当没听到。她随即向水锅那边走去,舀了一满杯。她把水端到桌上,放在他面前。”罗伯特 乔丹朝她笑笑。同时，他收紧了腹肌，身子在発子上向左微微一转，这样,腰带上的手枪滑到了更烦手的地方。他朝后裤袋仲下手去,巴勃罗紧盯着他。他知道大家也都在紧盯者他，但他只注意巴勃罗一个人。他从后裤袋里抽出那有皮套的扃酒瓶，旋开瓶盖，然后举起杯子，暍了半杯水，把瓶里的酒十分缓慢地倒在杯子里。
“这太凶，你受不了，不然我给你一点，”他对姑娘说，又对她笑笑。“剩下不多了，不然我请你喝一点。“他对巴勃罗说，“我不喜欢大茴香酒。“巴勃罗说。
刚才一股辛辣味飙过桌面，他闻到了其中一种熟悉的成分的气味。”
“那好，”罗伯特 乔丹说，“因为反正只剩一点儿了。”“那是什么酒?”吉普赛人问。“药，”罗伯特“乔丹说。“你想尝尝吗？”“喝了管什么甩的？”
“什么都管，”罗伯特 乔丹说。“什么病都能治。你如果有什么病，它准能治好。
“让我尝尝，”吉普赛人说。
罗伯特 乔丹把杯子向他推去。这酒搀了水变成了乳黄色，他希望吉普赛人只喝“口。剩下的只有一点儿了，这样一杯东西，可以代替晚报，可以代替往日在咖啡馆里消磨的所有的夜晚，代眷毎年这个月份里开花的所有的栗子树，代替郊区林荫路上的策马缓行,代替书店,代醬报亭,代替美术陈列馆,代替漦特苏里公园，代替布法罗运动场，代替夏兼髙地，代替保险信托公司和巴黎旧城岛,代替古老的福约特旅馆,可以代替在傍晚读书、休息？代替他享受过的、已被遗忘了的一切〃当他尝着这乳浊、苦涩、使舌头麻木、使头脑发热、使肚子暖和、使思想起变化的神妙的液体时，所有这一切又都重现在他眼前。
吉普赛人皱眉蹙额，交还杯子。“气味象大茴香，味道却象苦胆，”他说。“喝这种药我宁可生病。”
“那是苦艾，”罗伯特，乔丹对他说。“在这种真正的文酒里搀有苦艾。据说它会把你的脑子都烂掉，不过我不信。它只会使思想起变化。你原该把水很慢地倒在里面，每一次倒几滴，不过,我却把它直接倒在水里。”
“你在说啥？”巴勃罗觉得受到了嘲弄,气忿地说。“说明这药的性能。”罗伯特“乔丹对他说，并露齿笑笑。”我是在马德里买的。这是最后一瓶，已经喝了三个星期。”他喝了一大口，觉得酒顺着他舌头朝下淌,神经都麻木了，特别舒服。他望着巴勃罗，又鼷齿笑笑。“情况怎么样？〃他问道。”
巴勃罗不回笞，罗伯特 乔丹留神望着桌边另外那三个人。有一个长着一张大扁脸,扁而红揭色,象只塞拉诺火腿,断鼻梁，扁鼻子，嘴角斜叼者细长的俄国烟卷，使那张脸显得更扁了。这个人留着灰色的短头发和灰色的胡子茬，穿着通常的骚色軍衣，齐脖子扣住。罗伯特。乔丹望着他,他垂下眼光看桌子,可是目光坚定，一眨不眨。另外两个显然是兄弟。他们长得很象，都是矮胖结实，黑头发,前额很低,黑眼睛，皮肤棕褐色，一个前额上有条刀疤,在左眼上方。他望着他们俩，他们俩也目不转睛地望着他。一个看来二十七八岁光景,另一个可能要大两岁 “你望什么?”两兄弟中那个有刀疤的问。〃你。”罗伯特 乔丹说。
“有什么可奇怪的暍?”
“没有，”罗伯特 乔丹说。“来支烟？“行，”那人说。他刚才没拿烟卷，”这烟银那个人的一样。炸火车的那个人。
“你参加了炸火车?”
“我们都参加了。“那人冷静地说。“只有老头子没去。““这就是我们现在应该干的事，”巴勃罗说。“再炸一列火车。“
“那可以，”罗伯特 乔丹说。“等炸桥以后。他注意到巴勃罗的老婆在炉灶边转过身来，正在留心听。他一提到桥，大家都不作声了。
“等炸桥以后，”他故意重说一遒,呷了口文酒。他想。”我还是挑明的好。这个问题反正要谈到的。
“我可不去炸桥。”巴勃罗说，低头望着桌子。“我也好,我的手下也好，都不去。”
罗伯特 乔丹没说什么。他望着安塞尔莫,举起了杯子，”那我们只好单干啦,老伙计，”他微笑着说 “不要这个胆小鬼，”安塞尔莫说。“你说什么?”巴勃罗对老头儿说。“不关你的事。”我没有银你说话，”安塞尔莫对他说。罗伯特，乔丹这时隔着桌子望望站在炉火边的巴勃罗的老婆。她还没开过口，也没任何表示。但她这时对那姑娘说了些他听不清的话，姑娘就从火边站起身来，沿洞壁悄悄走去，揭开挂在洞口的敌子，出去了。罗伯特 乔丹想。”我看现在要摊脾了-我相信就在眼前了。我不希望发生这种佾況，可是实际情況看来就会如此。
“那我们要不靠你的帮劢来炸桥。“罗伯特 乔丹对巴勃罗
说。
“不，”巴勃罗说;罗伯特’乔丹望着他出汗的脸。你不能在这里炸桥。
“不能？”
“你不能炸桥，”巴勃罗缓慢地说。
“那你怎么说?”罗伯特。乔丹对巴勃罗的老婆说，她站在炉灶边显得镇静而高大。她转身对大家说,“我赞成炸桥。”她的脸被火光映亮了，显得红黑红黑的，热情而漂亮，流露出了她的本色。
“你说什么？”巴勃罗对她说；罗伯特 乔丹看到他转过头来,脸上显出感到众叛亲离的神色，前额上在冒汗。
“我赞成炸桥，反对你。”巴勃罗的老婆说。“没别的话啦。”
“我也赞成炸挢。“长着扁脸和断晷梁的人说,在桌上揿灭了烟蒂。
“对我来说，那座桥算不上什么“两兄弟中的一个说。“我拥护的是巴勃罗大娘。“
“我也一样，”另一个说。
“我也一样，”吉普赛人说。
罗伯特“乔丹注视着巴勃罗，同时，右手慢慢地放下来，以防万一，心里有点希望发生这种情况。他觉得那也许是最简易的解决办法,然而又不愿意损害已有的良好进展。他知道，一家人、一族人、一帮人在争吵的时候，很容易迅速团结起来反对一个外来的人；然而他又想,既然问題已经挑明，用这只手所能干出来的事也许是最简单而最好的，象外科手术那样录干脆。他还注意到巴勃罗的老婆站在那里，在众人表态时激动得脸上霣出骄傲、坚强、健康的红色，
“我拥护共和国，”巴勃罗的老婆欢快地说。“桥关系到共和国的命运。要干别的我们以后有时间。”
“你呀，”巴勃罗刻薄地说。“你这个种牛脑袋、婊子心肠的东西。你以为炸这座桥还会有 以后’吗？你考虑到会发生什么事吗？”
“会发生该发生的事情，”巴勃罗的老婆说。“非发生不可的事情总得发生。”
“炸这座桥我们得不到好处，炸桥之后我们会象野兽一样被人搜捕，你觉得无所谓吗？炸桥时万一死掉也无所谓吗？”“无所谓，”巴勃罗的老婆说。“你别来吓唬我，胆小鬼。”“胆小鬼，”巴勃罗忿忿地说。“你把一个有战术头脑的人叫做胆小鬼，因为他能事先看到干索事要遭殃。僅得什么叫蠹事的可不是胆小鬼。”
“僅得什么叫胆小鬼的也不见得蠢，”安塞尔莫忍不住插了一句。
“你要找死吗？”巴勃罗严苈地对他说。罗伯特 乔丹看到这句话问得太不够策略。“不。“
“那么留神你的嘴。你话太多了，讲的事自己也不懂。你没看出这件事的严重性吗？”他简直瘙出了一副可怜相。“难道只有我一个人才看出这件事的严重性吗?”
罗伯特 乔丹想。我也这样认为。老巴勃罗啊，老伙计，我也这样认为哪。还有我。你看得出来,我也看出来了，那妇人从我手拿上也看出来了，只是她自己还没有明白过来。目前她还没有明白过来。
“老子当家难道是吃千饭的?”巴勃罗问，“我说的活，我有
稂据。你们这帮人哪里知道。这个老头予在胡扯。他呀，这老头子,只会给外国人当通讯员、做向导，这个外国人到这里来干的事只对外国人有好处，为了他的好处，我们却得付出牺牲。我关心的是大家的好处和安全。”
“安全，”巴勃罗的老婆说。“安全这种东西根本不存在。到这里来找安全的人太多了，以致引起了大危险，为了寻求安全，现在把什么都丢啦。
她这时站在桌边，一手拿着那把大汤匙。“有安全，”巴勃罗说。“在危险中僅得如何见机行事就有安全。正象斗牛士知道自己在干什么,不冒不必要的险,就会安全。。”“直到他被牛角挑伤为止，”那妇人尖刻地说。“斗牛士被牛挑伤前也说这种话，我听到过不知有多少次了。我老是听菲尼托说，这全雜学问，牛决不会挑伤你，而是人自己推到牛角上去的。他们挨牛角之前，总是这样吹大气。结果是我们到病房里去看他们。”这时,她学着在探病的样子。”哏,老伙计，”她声如洪钟地说。接着,她用受了重伤的斗牛士的衰弱的声音说,“你好，朋友。怎么啦，比拉尔？”“怎么镝的，菲尼托,好孩子舸，你怎么碰到了这种倒霉事儿?”她用自己那洪亮的声音说。接着再学衰弱的声音，“没什么，太太。比拉尔，没什么。本来不会出这种事的。我顺顺当当地剌死了它，你知道。谁都没有我利索。我干净利落地把它杀了,它呢,死定啦儿摇猫晃晃的，支撑不住自身的重量，眼看就要栽倒了。我从它身边走开,祺样挺神气，挺帅，哪知道，它从背后把角捅进我的屁股，从肚皮上截了出来。”她不再学斗牛士那简直象女人一觖柔弱的声音了，哈哈大笑起来，接着又声音洪亮地说话了。“你扯什么安全明 我和天下三个收入最少的斗牛士待过九年，还不知道什么叫恐惧、什么叫安全吗？跟我讲什么事都行，可别讲安全。而你呀。我是一门心思指垫你干番大事,现在可落得这样的下场 打了一年仗,你就变成了懒鬼、酒鬼、胆小鬼。”
“你没权利这样说话。“巴勃罗说。“尤其在大家面前，在陌生人面前。“
“我就是要这样说话，”巴勃罗的老婆接着说。“你听到没有?你以为这里还是你作主?”
“对，”巴勃罗说。“这里我作主。”
“没的事，”那妇人说。“这里我作主 你们大伙听到了没有？这里除了我没有别人能作主。你要愿意,可以待着，吃你的饭，喝你的酒，可不能不要命似的喝那么多。你要愿意,可以于一部分活。可这里我作主。“
“我该把你和这个外国佬一起毙了。”巴勃罗阴沉地说。“试试看，”那妇人说。“看看会怎么样。““给我来杯水。”罗伯特 乔丹说，跟睛仍然盯着这个脸色阴沉而脑袋笨重的汉子和那个自嶔而信心十足地站着的女人，她拿着一把大汤匙，威风凜凜地仿佛拿的是指挥棒。”
“玛丽亚，”巴勃罗的老婆喊道，等姑娘进了门，她说。”拿水给这位同志。”
罗伯特 乔丹伸手去掏扁酒瓶，他一边拿出瓶子，一边松幵枪套里的手枪，把它在联带上转过来顶着大鼯根。他再往杯子里倒了点艾酒，端起姑娘簪他嬝来的那杯水，开始-滴一满地倒在酒杯里。姑娘站在他身边望着他。
“到外面去，”巴勃罗的老婆对她说，用汤匙朝外面指指。〃外面冷哪。”姑娘说，脸颊挨近了罗伯特 乔丹的脸，注视着杯子里面的液体逐渐变得混浊
“兴许是吧，”巴勃罗的老婆说。“不过这里可太热了。”她換着亲切地说。”要不了多久啦。”姑娘摇摇头,出去了。
罗伯特 乔丹暗自思忖。”我看他就要按捺不住了。”他一手握着杯子,一手毫不掩饰地放在手枪上。他已经打开了保险拴，抚摩着原先有小方格、现在几乎已磨平的枪抦，摸着鬪圆的冰凉的扳机护圈，一种舒适的伴侣感油然而生。巴勃罗不再望着他了，只望着那妇人，她接着说，“听我说，酒鬼。你明白这里是谁作主吗?”
“我作主。”
“不。听着。把你那毛耳朵里的耳垢掏掉。好好听着。”我作主”
巴勃罗望着她，从他的脸上“点看不出他在想些什么。他故意直勾勾地望着她，接着望望桌子对面的罗伯特。乔丹。他若有所思地看了他好久,接着又回头望者那妇人。
“行呀。你作主。“他说。“你愿意的话，他作主也行。”你们两个见鬼去吧。”他正睬望着那妇人的脸，他既没被她镇住，似乎也没受她多大的影响。“我或许是慷，酒喝得太多。你可以把我当胆小鬼，不过这一点你错了。我可不是傻瓜。”他停了一会。“你想作主，你也審欢作主。那好,你既然作主,又是女当家,就该给我们摘些吃的了。“
“玛丽亚，”巴勃罗的老婆喊道。姑娘从山洞口的毯子边探头进来。“进来侍候吃晚饭。”
姑娘走进来，走到炉灶边的矮桌前，端起一些搪瓷琬，放到
“红酒够大家喝的，”巴勃罗的老婆对罗伯特 乔丹说。“别
理会那酒鬼的话。喝完了这些酒，我们可以再搞一些。喝掉你那怪东西，来一杯红酒吧。”
罗伯特 乔丹一口干了最后一点艾酒，由于这样一饮而尽，觉得一股暖和、滋润、冒出浓烈气味、产生化学变化的细细的热流在他肚子里直泻而下，他递过杯子去要红酒。姑娘微笑着给他舀得满满的。
“呃，你去看过桥了？”吉普赛人问。刚才摊牌表态后还没开琿口的人，现在都凑过来听-
“是呀，”罗伯特 乔丹说。“这件事不难干。要我讲给你们听吗？”
“好，伙计。挺有兴趣。”
罗伯特。乔丹从衬衫袋里掏出笔记本，给他们看草图。“瞧这桥的样儿，”那个名叫普里米蒂伏的扁脸汉子说。“画得真象。”
罗伯特。乔丹用铅笔尖指着1讲解如何炸桥的方法，为什么要那样安放炸药包的原因。
“真简单极了，”两兄弟中脸上有刀疤的那个说，他名叫安德烈斯。“那你怎样引爆这些炸药包呢?”
罗伯特 乔丹又作了解释。他给他们讲解着,发觉那姑娘在旁边望着,手臂搁在他肩膀上。巴勃罗的老婆也在看着。只有巴勃罗不感兴趣，用杯子在大缸里又舀满了酒，坐在一旁独酌。大，“里辟酒是玛丽亚从挂在山洞进口左侧的皮酒袋里倒出来的。“这种事你干得很多吗?”姑娘悄声问罗伯特 乔丹。“对。”
“我们可以去看炸桥吗。““可以。于吗不。“
“你会看到的，”巴勃罗在桌子的那头说。“我相信你会看到的,“
“闭嘴，”巴勃罗的老婆对他说。她突然想起下午在手掌上看到的预兆，猛的冒出一股无名之火。“闭嘴，胆小鬼。闭嘴，不祥的老鸦。闭嘴,亡命之徒。”
“好，”巴勃罗说。“我闭嘴。现在作主的是你，你只顾自得其乐吧。不过别忘了，我可不是傻瓜。”
巴勃罗的老婆感到自己的愤怒变成了优伤，感到受到了挫折，丧失了一切希望，前途茫茫。当她还是小姑娘的时候，她就体会过这种心情，她一生中一直知道产生这种心情的来源。现在突然又出现了这种心情，她把它置之脑后，不让它影响她，既不让它影畹她，也不让它影响共和国,于是她说。”我们现在来吃吧。把锅里的菜盛在碗里，玛丽亚。“
收听单词发音 |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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untying
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| untie的现在分词 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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buckled
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| a. 有带扣的 | |
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straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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dynamite
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| n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
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warship
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| n.军舰，战舰 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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sullenly
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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component
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| n.组成部分，成分，元件；adj.组成的，合成的 | |
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milky
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| adj.牛奶的，多奶的；乳白色的 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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surgically
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| adv. 外科手术上, 外科手术一般地 | |
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derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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idiocy
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| n.愚蠢 | |
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gored
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| v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破( gore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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matadors
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| n.斗牛士( matador的名词复数 ) | |
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goring
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| v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破( gore的现在分词 ) | |
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arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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mimicking
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| v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的现在分词 )；酷似 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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authoritatively
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| 命令式地，有权威地，可信地 | |
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baton
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| n.乐队用指挥杖 | |
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thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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replenished
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| 补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 )； 重新装满 | |
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unreasonably
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| adv. 不合理地 | |
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thwarting
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| 阻挠( thwart的现在分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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