Robert Jordan pushed aside the saddle blanket that hung over the mouth of the cave and, stepping out, took a deep breath of the cold night air. The mist had cleared away and the stars were out. There was no wind, and, outside now of the warm air of the cave, heavy with smoke of both tobacco and charcoal1, with the odor of cooked rice and meat, saffron, pimentos, and oil, the tarry, wine-spilled smell of the big skin hung beside the door, hung by the neck and the four legs extended, wine drawn2 from a plug fitted in one leg, wine that spilled a little onto the earth of the floor, settling the dust smell; out now from the odors of different herbs whose names he did not know that hung in bunches from the ceiling, with long ropes of garlic, away now from the copper-penny, red wine and garlic, horse sweat and man sweat dried in the clothing (acrid and gray the man sweat, sweet and sickly the dried brushed-off lather3 of horse sweat), of the men at the table, Robert Jordan breathed deeply of the clear night air of the mountains that smelled of the pines and of the dew on the grass in the meadow by the stream. Dew had fallen heavily since the wind had dropped, but, as he stood there, he thought there would be frost by morning.
As he stood breathing deep and then listening to the night, he heard first, firing far away, and then he heard an owl4 cry in the timber below, where the horse corral was slung5. Then inside the cave he could hear the gypsy starting to sing and the soft chording of a guitar.
"_I had an inheritance from my father_," the artificially hardened voice rose harshly and hung there. Then went on:
"_It was the moon and the sun_
"_And though I roam all over the world_
"_The spending of it's never done_."
The guitar thudded with chorded applause for the singer. "Good," Robert Jordan heard some one say. "Give us the Catalan, gypsy."
"No."
"Yes. Yes. The Catalan."
"All right," the gypsy said and sang mournfully,
"_My nose is flat_.
"_My face is black_.
"_But still I am a man_."
"Ole!" some one said. "Go on, gypsy!"
The gypsy's voice rose tragically6 and mockingly.
"_Thank God I am a Negro_.
"_And not a Catalan!_"
"There is much noise," Pablo's voice said. "Shut up, gypsy."
"Yes," he heard the woman's voice. "There is too much noise. You could call the _guardia civil_ with that voice and still it has no quality."
"I know another verse," the gypsy said and the guitar commenced
"Save it," the woman told him.
The guitar stopped.
"I am not good in voice tonight. So there is no loss," the gypsy said and pushing the blanket aside he came out into the dark.
Robert Jordan watched him walk over to a tree and then come toward him.
"Roberto," the gypsy said softly.
"Yes, Rafael," he said. He knew the gypsy had been affected7 by the wine from his voice. He himself had drunk the two absinthes and some wine but his head was clear and cold from the strain of the difficulty with Pablo.
"Why didst thou not kill Pablo?" the gypsy said very softly.
"Why kill him?"
"You have to kill him sooner or later. Why did you not approve of the moment?"
"Do you speak seriously?"
"What do you think they all waited for? What do you think the woman sent the girl away for? Do you believe that it is possible to continue after what has been said?"
"That you all should kill him."
"_Qu?va_," the gypsy said quietly. "That is your business. Three or four times we waited for you to kill him. Pablo has no friends."
"I had the idea," Robert Jordan said. "But I left it."
"Surely all could see that. Every one noted8 your preparations. Why didn't you do it?"
"I thought it might molest9 you others or the woman."
"_Qu?va_. And the woman waiting as a whore waits for the flight of the big bird. Thou art younger than thou appearest."
"It is possible."
"Kill him now," the gypsy urged.
"That is to assassinate10."
"Even better," the gypsy said very softly. "Less danger. Go on. Kill him now."
"I cannot in that way. It is repugnant to me and it is not how one should act for the cause."
"Provoke him then," the gypsy said. "But you have to kill him. There is no remedy."
As they spoke11, the owl flew between the trees with the softness of all silence, dropping past them, then rising, the wings beating quickly, but with no noise of feathers moving as the bird hunted.
"Look at him," the gypsy said in the dark. "Thus should men move."
"And in the day, blind in a tree with crows around him," Robert Jordan said.
"Rarely," said the gypsy. "And then by hazard. Kill him," he went on. "Do not let it become difficult."
"Now the moment is passed."
"Provoke it," the gypsy said. "Or take advantage of the quiet."
The blanket that closed the cave door opened and light came out. Some one came toward where they stood.
"It is a beautiful night," the man said in a heavy, dull voice. "We will have good weather."
It was Pablo.
He was smoking one of the Russian cigarettes and in the glow, as he drew on the cigarette, his round face showed. They could see his heavy, long-armed body in the starlight.
"Do not pay any attention to the woman," he said to Robert Jordan. In the dark the cigarette glowed bright, then showed in his hand as he lowered it. "She is difficult sometimes. She is a good woman. Very loyal to the Republic." The light of the cigarette jerked slightly now as he spoke. He must be talking with it in the corner of his mouth, Robert Jordan thought. "We should have no difficulties. We are of accord. I am glad you have come." The cigarette glowed brightly. "Pay no attention to arguments," he said. "You are very welcome here.
"Excuse me now," he said. "I go to see how they have picketed13 the horses."
He went off through the trees to the edge of the meadow and they heard a horse nicker from below.
"You see?" the gypsy said. "Now you see? In this way has the moment escaped."
Robert Jordan said nothing.
"I go down there," the gypsy said angrily.
"To do what?"
"_Qu?va_, to do what. At least to prevent him leaving."
"Can he leave with a horse from below?"
"No."
"Then go to the spot where you can prevent him."
"Agust璯 is there."
"Go then and speak with Agust璯. Tell him that which has happened."
"Agust璯 will kill him with pleasure."
"Less bad," Robert Jordan said. "Go then above and tell him all as it happened."
"And then?"
"I go to look below in the meadow."
"Good. Man. Good," he could not see Rafael's face in the dark but he could feel him smiling. "Now you have tightened14 your garters," the gypsy said approvingly.
"Go to Agust璯," Robert Jordan said to him.
"Yes, Roberto, yes," said the gypsy.
Robert Jordan walked through the pines, feeling his way from tree to tree to the edge of the meadow. Looking across it in the darkness, lighter15 here in the open from the starlight, he saw the dark bulks of the picketed horses. He counted them where they were scattered16 between him and the stream. There were five. Robert Jordan sat down at the foot of a pine tree and looked out across the meadow.
I am tired, he thought, and perhaps my judgment17 is not good. But my obligation is the bridge and to fulfill18 that, I must take no useless risk of myself until I complete that duty. Of course it is sometimes more of a risk not to accept chances which are necessary to take but I have done this so far, trying to let the situation take its own course. If it is true, as the gypsy says, that they expected me to kill Pablo then I should have done that. But it was never clear to me that they did expect that. For a stranger to kill where he must work with the people afterwards is very bad. It may be done in action, and it may be done if backed by sufficient discipline, but in this case I think it would be very bad, although it was a temptation and seemed a short and simple way. But I do not believe anything is that short nor that simple in this country and, while I trust the woman absolutely, I could not tell how she would react to such a drastic thing. One dying in such a place can be very ugly, dirty and repugnant. You could not tell how she would react. Without the woman there is no organization nor any discipline here and with the woman it can be very good. It would be ideal if she would kill him, or if the gypsy would (but he will not) or if the sentry19, Agust璯, would. Anselmo will if I ask it, though he says he is against all killing20. He hates him, I believe, and he already trusts me and believes in me as a representative of what he believes in. Only he and the woman really believe in the Republic as far as I can see; but it is too early to know that yet.
As his eyes became used to the starlight he could see that Pablo was standing21 by one of the horses. The horse lifted his head from grazing; then dropped it impatiently. Pablo was standing by the horse, leaning against him, moving with him as he swung with the length of the picket12 rope and patting him on the neck. The horse was impatient at the tenderness while he was feeding. Robert Jordan could not see what Pablo was doing, nor hear what he was saying to the horse, but he could see that he was neither unpicketing nor saddling. He sat watching him, trying to think his problem out clearly.
"Thou my big good little pony22," Pablo was saying to the horse in the dark; it was the big bay stallion he was speaking to. "Thou lovely white-faced big beauty. Thou with the big neck arching like the viaduct of my pueblo," he stopped. "But arching more and much finer." The horse was snatching grass, swinging his head sideways as he pulled, annoyed by the man and his talking. "Thou art no woman nor a fool," Pablo told the bay horse. "Thou, oh, thou, thee, thee, my big little pony. Thou art no woman like a rock that is burning. Thou art no colt of a girl with cropped head and the movement of a foal still wet from its mother. Thou dost not insult nor lie nor not understand. Thou, oh, thee, oh my good big little pony."
It would have been very interesting for Robert Jordan to have heard Pablo speaking to the bay horse but he did not hear him because now, convinced that Pablo was only down checking on his horses, and having decided23 that it was not a practical move to kill him at this time, he stood up and walked back to the cave. Pablo stayed in the meadow talking to the horse for a long time. The horse understood nothing that he said; only, from the tone of the voice, that they were endearments24 and he had been in the corral all day and was hungry now, grazing impatiently at the limits of his picket rope, and the man annoyed him. Pablo shifted the picket pin finally and stood by the horse, not talking now. The horse went on grazing and was relieved now that the man did not bother him.
罗伯特 乔丹撩开挂在山洞口的马毯，跨到外面；深深地吸了一口夜凉空气。迷雾已消散,星星露面了。这时洞外没有风,他不再闻到洞里暧和的空气，那里弥漫着烟草和炭火的烟味，夹杂着米饭、芮、蕃红花、辣椒和食油的香味，还有那拴住脖子挂在洞边的盛酒用的大皮袋，四腿伸幵，一条雎上安了一个塞子，取酒时溅出来的酒洒在泥地上，酒味压倒了尘埃的气味；他不再闻到和长长的一串串大蒜一起挂在洞顶的一扎扎不知名称的各种药草的气味，他不再闻到铟币、红酒和大蒜的气味，马汗和人衣服上的汗味(人汗是刺鼻的酸味，刷下来的马汗沫千了以后带有怪味，令人作呕。罗伯特 乔丹现在离开了桌边的那些人，深深吸着夜晚山中带着松树和溪边草地上的露水气息的清新空气。风已停息，露水更浓了,但是他站在那里，却认为早展准会有霜。
他站着深深地呼吸着，倾听着夜籁，这时，他先听到远方的枪声，接着是下面树林中马栏那边传来猫头鹰的叫声。然后他又听到吉普赛人在山洞里幵始唱耿，还有吉他轻柔的伴奏声。
“我爹留给我一笔遗产。”粗哑的假嗓音晌了起来，在那里荡漾。他接着唱下去。“那就是月充和太阳。我虽然走遍夭涯诲角，这笔遣产永远花不光。低沉的吉他声里混杂着大家为耿手喝彩的声音。“好，”罗伯特。乔丹听到有人在噓。“唱那支加泰隆民耿①给我们听,吉普赛人,“不。“
“唱吧。喝吧。噴加泰隆民耿。”“好吧，”吉普赛人说，就哀伤地唱起来，我的鼻子扁，我的脸儿黑，不过我还是人。”
①指用西班牙东北部加泰罗尼亚地区的方言加麥隆语写的民取办
“好 ”有人喊。“唱下去，吉普赛人!”吉普赛人的軟声伤心而嘲弄地响起来，
“幸好我是个黑人，不是加泰罗尼亚人。“
〃真闹死了，”只听得巴勃罗的声音说。“住口，吉普赛人。”“是呀，”他听到那妇人的声音说。“闹得太厉害了。你这副矂子可以把民防军都招来，不过唱得还是不够格。”
“我还会唱一节，”吉普赛人说,接着响起了吉他声，“留着吧，”那妇人对他说。吉他声停了
“今晚我嗓子不好。不唱也没什么关系。”吉普赛人说着，撩幵毯子，走到外面黑夜中去。
罗伯特 乔丹看见他走到“棵树边,然后向他这边走来。“罗伯托，”吉普赛人低声说。
“嗯，拉斐尔。“他说。他从吉普赛人的声调里听出他有了几分醉意。他自己也喝了两杯艾酒和一些红酒，但是由于刚才和巴勃罗紧张地较量了一番,他的头脑却清醒而冷静。“你干吗不杀了巴勃罗？”吉普赛人悄悄地说，“为什么要杀他,
“你迟早得杀了他。你为啥不利用当时的机会？” 你这是说正经话?”
“你以为我们大伙在盼着什么？你以为那女人把丫头支出去是为了什么？刚才说了那番话，你以为我们往后还呆得下去
“我以为你们大家会杀他的。”
“什么话 ”吉普赛人冷静地说。“那是你的事。有三四次我们等你动手杀他。巴勃罗没有朋友。”
“我起过这念头，”罗伯特 乔丹说。“不过我打消了。”“大家也都看到啦。大家都注意到你准备动手。你干吗不动手?”
“我觉得这样做说不定会使你们有些人,或者使那女人不高兴。“
“什么话 那婆娘就象婊子盼嫖客那样心焦地盼着。你看上去挺老练，实际还嫩着呢。“
“那倒有可能。”
“现在去杀他吧。“吉普赛人催促着。“那就等于暗杀。”
“这样更好些，”吉普赛人悄声说。“危险少些。动手吧。现在就干掉他。”
“我不能那么干。我讨厌那种做法，为了我们的事业，不应该那么干。“
“那么就惹他发火，”吉普赛人说。“你非杀他不可，没别的办法。“
他们交谈的时候,那只猫头鹰在树林里悄没声儿地飞着，先在他们身旁落下，随即又飞上天去，迅速扑动着翅膀，可是尽管它一路觅食,拍击着翅膀,却一点声音也没有。
“瞧它，”吉普赛人在黑暗中说。“人就该这么行动。”“可是到了白天，它在树上一点也看不见，却被乌鸦包围起来了。“罗伯特 乔丹说。
“这是难得如此的，”吉普赛人说。“再说，也是偶然的事,杀
他吧，”他接着说。“别等到事情棘手的时候。”“现在已经错过机会啦。
“向他挑衅，”吉普赛人说。“或者趁现在夜深人静。”遮住山洞口的毪子撩开了，霜出亮光来。有一个人向他们站的地方走来。
“夜色真好。”那人用低沉而单调的嗓音说。〃天气要放晴啦。”
那是巴勃罗。
他正在抽一支俄国烟卷，吸烟时烟头的火光映出了他的圆脸。在星光中,他们看得清他的一双长臂和粗壮的身子。
“别理会那婆娘，”他对罗伯特 乔丹说。黑暗中，烟头的红光很亮，接着那光亮随着他的手垂下了。她有时真别扭。她人不坏。对共和国很忠诚。”他说话时烟头的光在微微抖动着。罗伯特。乔丹想 他说话时准是把烟卷叼在嘴角，“我们不应当闹别扭，大家是一条心嘛。你来了’我很高兴。”这时烟头的光变得很亮。“别把争吵放在心上，”他说。“你在这里很受欢迎。“
“现在我要失陪了，”他说，“我去看看他们是不是把马拴好了。“
他穿过树林，走到革地边，他们听到草地上有匹马在嘶叫公“你明白了吧?”吉普赛人说。“现在你总明白了吧？这一来，机会错过了。”
罗伯特“乔丹一句话也没说 “我到下面去，”吉普赛人忿忿地说。“去干什么?”
“瞧你说的,干什么！至少防止他溜掉呗。”“他能从下面骑了马走掉吗？”
“不能。”
“那么你到一个能防止他走掉的地点去。““奥古斯丁在那儿。
“那你去通知奥古斯丁。把刚才发生的事情告诉他。“奥古斯丁会很乐意杀掉他的。”
“这倒不坏，”罗伯特，乔丹说。“那就到山上去把发生的情况都照实告诉他。““接着呢?”
“我到下面草地上去看看。“
“好。伙计。好。”他在黑暗中看不到拉斐尔的脸，但能感觉到他在撖笑。“现在你可要真干啦。”吉普赛人赞许地说。“去找奥古斯丁吧。”罗伯特 乔丹对他说，“好,罗伯托，好，”吉普赛人说。
罗伯特。乔丹在松林中穿行，从这棵树摸到另一棵树，来到草地边。他在黑暗中望着眼前的草地，在星光下,这空扩的草地显得较明亮，他看到那些拴住的马的黑黝黝的身影。他数数敢开在从他眼前到小溪边这片草地上的马群。一共五匹。罗伯特，乔丹坐在一棵松树脚下,眺望面前的草地。
他想,我累啦，也许我的判断力不行了，不过我的责任是炸桥，在完成这个任务之前，我不能拿自己作无谓的冒险。当然，放过必须抓住的机会有时候吏危险,但是我 直听其自然，让事态自己发展。要是真象吉普赛人说的,大家都指望我杀掉巴勃罗，那我就应该杀了他。但我一点也摸不透，他们是不是真的指望我那样做。让一个外来的人来杀人,而事后又不得不和大家一起工作，这是非常糟的，在打仗时可以这么干，有了充分的纪律保证也可以这样干，可是我觉得,在眼前的情况下这样干是十分糟的，尽管这办法很吸引人，似乎又干脆又简单。但是在这个地方,我是不信任何事能这样干脆而简单的，尽管我完全信任那女人，可我说不准她对这样走极端的行动会有什么反应。一个人在这种场合死去也许是非常丑恶、肮脏、令人厌恶的。你摸不透她会有什么反应。没有这个女人，这里就没有组织,也没有纪律，有了她，事情就能很好办。如果她杀了他，或者由吉普赛人来杀〈但他是不会的〉，或者由那哨兵奥古斯丁来杀，那就理想了。如果我要求安塞尔莫，他是肯动手的，虽然他说反对杀任何人。我相信,他恨巴勃罗，他对我已经有了信任，而且把我当作他所信仰的事物的代表那样信任我。依我看，只有他和那女人才真正信仰共和国;不过，现在下这种绪论还太早。
他眼睛习愤了星光，他看到巴勃罗站在一匹马旁边。那匹马抬起头来不再吃草了；接着又不耐烦地垂下头去。巴勃罗站在马旁边，挨着它，跟它顺着缀绳的长度转面子，不时拍拍它的脖颈。马在吃草的时候，对这样的爱抚显得不耐烦。罗伯特 乔丹看不清巴勃罗在做什么,也听不到他对马在说些什么，但是他看得出巴勃罗不在解缰绳，也不在备鞍。他坐在地上望者巴勃罗，想把他的问题理出个头绪来。
“你呀，我的大个儿小乖马，”巴勃罗在黑暗中对那匹马说，就是那匹茱色大种马。“你这个可爱的白脸大美人儿呀。你呀，你的长脖子弯得象我老家村子里的旱桥。”他停了一会儿。”弯得更高、更好看。“马在哨萆，把草咬断时头歪向一边，被这个人和他的唠叨弄得厌烦了。“你可不是婆娘，也不是傻瓜，”巴勃罗对栗色马说。“你呀，明，你呀你，我的大个儿小乖马 你不是那个象滚烫的石头 样的婆娘。你也不是那个剃了光头、象乳臭未干的小牝马般走动的丫头，你不骂街,也不撤诡,可僅事薄。你呀你，我的大个儿小乖马呀。“
如果听到巴勃罗跟那栗色马谈心，罗伯特。乔丹准会觉得非常有趣，但他没听到，因为他深信巴勃罗只是下来检查他的马匹，认为在这时杀他并不可取，所以站起身来，回山湎去了。巴勃罗留在草地上对那匹马谈了很久。马儿一点也不懂他说的话，只听得出那语调是亲热的表示。伹它在马栏里被圏了一天，这时正饿着，不耐烦地在系马桩上的绳子长度所及的范围里吃萆，这家伙的唠叨叫它恼火。巴勃罗后来把系马桩搬了一个位置，仍旧站在马身边，可是不说话了，马儿继续吃荜，这个人不再打扰它了,使它觉得轻松不少。
收听单词发音 |
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charcoal
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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lather
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| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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tragically
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| adv. 悲剧地，悲惨地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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molest
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| vt.骚扰，干扰，调戏 | |
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assassinate
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| vt.暗杀，行刺，中伤 | |
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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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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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picketed
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| 用尖桩围住（picket的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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fulfill
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| vt.履行，实现，完成；满足，使满意 | |
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sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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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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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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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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endearments
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| n.表示爱慕的话语，亲热的表示( endearment的名词复数 ) | |
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