They stood in the mouth of the cave and watched them. The bombers1 were high now in fast, ugly arrow-heads beating the sky apart with the noise of their motors. They _are_ shaped like sharks, Robert Jordan thought, the wide-finned, sharp-nosed sharks of the Gulf2 Stream. But these, wide-finned in silver, roaring, the light mist of their propellers3 in the sun, these do not move like sharks. They move like no thing there has ever been. They move like mechanized doom4.
You ought to write, he told himself. Maybe you will again some time. He felt Maria holding to his arm. She was looking up and he said to her, "What do they look like to you, _guapa?_"
"I don't know," she said. "Death, I think."
"They look like planes to me," the woman of Pablo said. "'Where are the little ones?"
"They may be crossing at another part," Robert Jordan said. "Those bombers are too fast to have to wait for them and have come back alone. We never follow them across the lines to fight. There aren't enough planes to risk it."
Just then three Heinkel fighters in V formation came low over the clearing coming toward them, just over the tree tops, like clattering5, wing-tilting, pinch-nosed ugly toys, to enlarge suddenly, fearfully to their actual size; pouring past in a whining6 roar. They were so low that from the cave mouth all of them could see the pilots, helmeted, goggled7, a scarf blowing back from behind the patrol leader's head.
"_Those_ can see the horses," Pablo said.
"Those can see thy cigarette butts," the woman said. "Let fall the blanket."
No more planes came over. The others must have crossed farther up the range and when the droning was gone they went out of the cave into the open.
The sky was empty now and high and blue and clear.
"It seems as though they were a dream that you wake from," Maria said to Robert Jordan. There was not even the last almost unheard hum that comes like a finger faintly touching8 and leaving and touching again after the sound is gone almost past hearing.
"They are no dream and you go in and clean up," Pilar said to her. "What about it?" she turned to Robert Jordan. "Should we ride or walk?"
Pablo looked at her and grunted9.
"As you will," Robert Jordan said.
"Then let us walk," she said. "I would like it for the liver."
"Riding is good for the liver."
"Yes, but hard on the buttocks. We will walk and thou--" She turned to Pablo. "Go down and count thy beasts and see they have not flown away with any."
"Do you want a horse to ride?" Pablo asked Robert Jordan.
"No. Many thanks. What about the girl?"
"Better for her to walk," Pilar said. "She'll get stiff in too many places and serve for nothing."
Robert Jordan felt his face reddening.
"Did you sleep well?" Pilar asked. Then said, "It is true that there is no sickness. There could have been. I know not why there wasn't. There probably still is God after all, although we have abolished Him. Go on," she said to Pablo. "This does not concern thee. This is of people younger than thee. Made of other material. Get on." Then to Robert Jordan, "Agust璯 is looking after thy things. We go when he comes."
It was a clear, bright day and warm now in the sun. Robert Jordan looked at the big, brown-faced woman with her kind, widely set eyes and her square, heavy face, lined and pleasantly ugly, the eyes merry, but the face sad until the lips moved. He looked at her and then at the man, heavy and stolid10, moving off through the trees toward the corral. The woman, too, was looking after him.
"Did you make love?" the woman said.
"What did she say?"
"She would not tell me."
"I neither."
"Then you made love," the woman said. "Be as careful with her as you can."
"What if she has a baby?"
"That will do no harm," the woman said. "That will do less harm."
"This is no place for that."
"She will not stay here. She will go with you."
"And where will I go? I can't take a woman where I go."
"Who knows? You may take two where you go."
"That is no way to talk."
"Listen," the woman said. "I am no coward, but I see things very clearly in the early morning and I think there are many that we know that are alive now who will never see another Sunday."
"In what day are we?"
"Sunday."
"_Qu?va_," said Robert Jordan. "Another Sunday is very far. If we see Wednesday we are all right. But I do not like to hear thee talk like this."
"Every one needs to talk to some one," the woman said. "Before we had religion and other nonsense. Now for every one there should be some one to whom one can speak frankly11, for all the valor12 that one could have one becomes very alone."
"We are not alone. We are all together."
"The sight of those machines does things to one," the woman said. "We are nothing against such machines."
"Yet we can beat them."
"Look," the woman said. "I confess a sadness to you, but do not think I lack resolution. Nothing has happened to my resolution."
"The sadness will dissipate as the sun rises. It is like a mist."
"Clearly," the woman said. "If you want it that way. Perhaps it came from talking that foolishness about Valencia. And that failure of a man who has gone to look at his horses. I wounded him much with the story. Kill him, yes. Curse him, yes. But wound him, no."
"How came you to be with him?"
"How is one with any one? In the first days of the movement and before too, he was something. Something serious. But now he is finished. The plug has been drawn13 and the wine has all run out of the skin."
"I do not like him."
"Nor does he like you, and with reason. Last night I slept with him." She smiled now and shook her head. " _Vamos a ver_," she said. "I said to him, 'Pablo, why did you not kill the foreigner?'
"'He's a good boy, Pilar,' he said. 'He's a good boy.'
"So I said, 'You understand now that I command?'
"'Yes, Pilar. Yes,' he said. Later in the night I hear him awake and he is crying. He is crying in a short and ugly manner as a man cries when it is as though there is an animal inside that is shaking him.
"'What passes with thee, Pablo?' I said to him and I took hold of him and held him.
"'Nothing, Pilar. Nothing.'
"'Yes. Something passes with thee.'
"'The people,' he said. 'The way they left me. The _gente_.'
"'Yes, but they are with me,' I said, 'and I am thy woman.'
"'Pilar,' he said, 'remember the train.' Then he said, 'May God aid thee, Pilar.'
"'What are you talking of God for?' I said to him. 'What way is that to speak?'
"'Yes,' he said. 'God and the Virgen.'
"'_Qu?va_, God and the _Virgen_,' I said to him. 'Is that any way to talk?'
"'I am afraid to die, Pilar,' he said. '_Tengo miedo de morir_. Dost thou understand?'
"'Then get out of bed,' I said to him. 'There is not room in one bed for me and thee and thy fear all together.'
"Then he was ashamed and was quiet and I went to sleep but, man, he's a ruin."
Robert Jordan said nothing.
"All my life I have had this sadness at intervals," the woman said. "But it is not like the sadness of Pablo. It does not affect my resolution."
"I believe that."
"It may be it is like the times of a woman," she said. "It may be it is nothing," she paused, then went on. "I put great illusion in the Republic. I believe firmly in the Republic and I have faith. I believe in it with fervor14 as those who have religious faith believe in the mysteries."
"I believe you."
"And you have this same faith?"
"In the Republic?"
"Yes."
"Yes," he said, hoping it was true.
"I am happy," the woman said. "And you have no fear?"
"Not to die," he said truly.
"But other fears?"
"Only of not doing my duty as I should."
"Not of capture, as the other had?"
"No," he said truly. "Fearing that, one would be so preoccupied15 as to be useless."
"You are a very cold boy."
"No," he said. "I do not think so."
"No. In the head you are very cold."
"It is that I am very preoccupied with my work."
"But you do not like the things of life?"
"Yes. Very much. But not to interfere16 with my work."
"You like to drink, I know. I have seen."
"Yes. Very much. But not to interfere with my work."
"And women?"
"I like them very much, but I have not given them much importance."
"You do not care for them?"
"Yes. But I have not found one that moved me as they say they should move you."
"I think you lie."
"Maybe a little."
"But you care for Maria."
"Yes. Suddenly and very much."
"I, too. I care for her very much. Yes. Much."
"I, too," said Robert Jordan, and could feel his voice thickening. "I, too. Yes." It gave him pleasure to say it and he said it quite formally in Spanish. "I care for her very much."
"I will leave you alone with her after we have seen El Sordo."
Robert Jordan said nothing. Then he said, "That is not necessary."
"Yes, man. It is necessary. There is not much time."
"Did you see that in the hand?" he asked.
"No. Do not remember that nonsense of the hand."
She had put that away with all the other things that might do ill to the Republic.
Robert Jordan said nothing. He was looking at Maria putting away the dishes inside the cave. She wiped her hands and turned and smiled at him. She could not hear what Pilar was saying, but as she smiled at Robert Jordan she blushed dark under the tawny17 skin and then smiled at him again.
"There is the day also," the woman said. "You have the night, but there is the day, too. Clearly, there is no such luxury as in Valencia in my time. But you could pick a few wild strawberries or something." She laughed.
Robert Jordan put his arm on her big shoulder. "I care for thee, too," he said. "I care for thee very much."
"Thou art a regular Don Juan Tenorio," the woman said, embarrassed now with affection. "There is a commencement of caring for every one. Here comes Agust璯."
Robert Jordan went into the cave and up to where Maria was standing18. She watched him come toward her, her eyes bright, the blush again on her cheeks and throat.
"Hello, little rabbit," he said and kissed her on the mouth. She held him tight to her and looked in his face and said, "Hello. Oh, hello. Hello."
Fernando, still sitting at the table smoking a cigarette, stood up, shook his head and walked out, picking up his carbine from where it leaned against the wall.
"It is very unformal," he said to Pilar. "And I do not like it. You should take care of the girl."
"I am," said Pilar. "That comrade is her _novio_."
"Oh," said Fernando. "In that case, since they are engaged, I encounter it to be perfectly19 normal."
"I am pleased," the woman said.
"Equally," Fernando agreed gravely. "_Salud_, Pilar."
"Where are you going?"
"To the upper post to relieve Primitivo."
"Where the hell are you going?" Agust璯 asked the grave little man as he came up.
"To my duty," Fernando said with dignity.
"Thy duty," said Agust璯 mockingly. "I besmirch20 the milk of thy duty." Then turning to the woman, "Where the un-nameable is this vileness21 that I am to guard?"
"In the cave," Pilar said. "In two sacks. And I am tired of thy obscenity."
"I obscenity in the milk of thy tiredness," Agust璯 said.
"Then go and befoul thyself," Pilar said to him without heat.
"Thy mother," Agust璯 replied.
"Thou never had one," Pilar told him, the insults having reached the ultimate formalism in Spanish in which the acts are never stated but only implied.
"What are they doing in there?" Agust璯 now asked confidentially22.
"Nothing," Pilar told him. "_Nada_. We are, after all, in the spring, animal."
"Animal," said Agust璯, relishing23 the word. "Animal. And thou. Daughter of the great whore of whores. I befoul myself in the milk of the springtime."
Pilar slapped him on the shoulder.
"You," she said, and laughed that booming laugh. "You lack variety in your cursing. But you have force. Did you see the planes?"
"I un-name in the milk of their motors," Agust璯 said, nodding his head and biting his lower lip.
"That's something," Pilar said. "That is really something. But really difficult of execution."
"At that altitude, yes," Agust璯 grinned. "_Desde luego_. But it is better to joke."
"Yes," the woman of Pablo said. "It is much better to joke, and you are a good man and you joke with force."
"Listen, Pilar," Agust璯 said seriously. "Something is preparing. It is not true?"
"How does it seem to you?"
"Of a foulness24 that cannot be worse. Those were many planes, woman. Many planes."
"And thou hast caught fear from them like all the others?"
"_Qu?va_," said Agust璯. "What do you think they are preparing?"
"Look," Pilar said. "From this boy coming for the bridges obviously the Republic is preparing an offensive. From these planes obviously the Fascists25 are preparing to meet it. But why show the planes?"
"In this war are many foolish things," Agust璯 said. "In this war there is an idiocy26 without bounds."
"Clearly," said Pilar. "Otherwise we could not be here."
"Yes," said Agust璯. "We swim within the idiocy for a year now. But Pablo is a man of much understanding. Pablo is very wily."
"Why do you say this?"
"I say it."
"But you must understand," Pilar explained. "It is now too late to be saved by wiliness and he has lost the other."
"I understand," said Agust璯. "I know we must go. And since we must win to survive ultimately, it is necessary that the bridges must be blown. But Pablo, for the coward that he now is, is very smart."
"I, too, am smart."
"No, Pilar," Agust璯 said. "You are not smart. You are brave. You are loyal. You have decision. You have intuition. Much decision and much heart. But you are not smart."
"You believe that?" the woman asked thoughtfully.
"Yes, Pilar."
"The boy is smart," the woman said. "Smart and cold. Very cold in the head."
"Yes," Agust璯 said. "He must know his business or they would not have him doing this. But I do not know that he is smart. Pablo I _know_ is smart."
"But rendered useless by his fear and his disinclination to action."
"But still smart."
"And what do you say?"
"Nothing. I try to consider it intelligently. In this moment we need to act with intelligence. After the bridge we must leave at once. All must be prepared. We must know for where we are leaving and how."
"Naturally."
"For this--Pablo. It must be done smartly."
"I have no confidence in Pablo."
"In this, yes."
"No. You do not know how far he is ruined."
"_Pero es muy vivo_. He is very smart. And if we do not do this smartly we are obscenitied."
"I will think about it," Pilar said. "I have the day to think about it."
"For the bridges; the boy," Agust璯 said. "This he must know. Look at the fine manner in which the other organized the train."
"Yes," Pilar said. "It was really he who planned all."
"You for energy and resolution," Agust璯 said. "But Pablo for the moving. Pablo for the retreat. Force him now to study it."
"You are a man of intelligence."
"Intelligent, yes," Agust璯 said. "But _sin picardia_. Pablo for that."
"With his fear and all?"
"With his fear and all."
"And what do you think of the bridges?"
"It is necessary. That I know. Two things we must do. We must leave here and we must win. The bridges are necessary if we are to Win."
"If Pablo is so smart, why does he not see that?"
"He wants things as they are for his own weakness. He wants tO stay in the eddy27 of his own weakness. But the river is rising. Forced to a change, he will be smart in the change. _Es muy vivo_."
"It is good that the boy did not kill him."
"_Qu?va_. The gypsy wanted me to kill him last night. The gypsy is an animal."
"You're an animal, too," she said. "But intelligent."
"We are both intelligent," Agust璯 said. "But the talent is Pablo!"
"But difficult to put up with. You do not know how ruined."
"Yes. But a talent. Look, Pilar. To make war all you need is intelligence. But to win you need talent and material."
"I will think it over," she said. "We must start now. We are late." Then, raising her voice, "English!" she called. "_Ingl廥!_ Come on! Let us go."
他们站在山洞口望着飞机。轰炸机这时飞得很髙，象一支支迅疾而丑陋的箭头，引擎声把天空展得象要进裂似的。它们的外型象鲨鱼，罗伯特’乔丹想，象墨西哥湾流里尖鼻宽螬的鲨鱼。这些飞机银翼宽阔，隆隆作晌，飞转的螺旋桨在阳光中象一个个模糊的光环，它们的行动可不象鲨鱼。它们的行动和世上的任何事物都不同。它们象机械化的死神在行动。
你应该写作,他对自已说。也许你有一天会再拿起笔来。他觉得玛丽亚紧握着他的胳臂。她正望着天空，他就对她说,“你看飞机象什么，漂亮的姑娘?”
“我不知道。”她说。
“我看象死神吧。”
“我看飞机就是飞机，”巴勃罗的老婆说。
“那些小飞机呢?”
“可能打别的地方飞过去了，”罗伯特 乔丹说。“轰炸机飞得太快，等不及那些小飞机,单独回来了。我们的飞机从不越过火线来追击它们。也没足够的飞机去冒这种险。”
正在这时，三架组成乂字形的海因克尔战斗机在林中空地上空朝他们飞来，低得差点儿擦到树梢，就象嘎嘎作响的、机翼1。。朝下冲的、扁鼻子的丑陋的玩具飞机，突然可怕地变大到实际的尺寸，吼叫宥一掠而过。飞机飞得那么低，以致大家从洞口看得见戴着头盔和护目镜的驾驶员，以及巡逻机队队长脑后飘拂的围巾。
“那些飞机能见到马儿，”巴勃罗说。
“它们能觅到你的烟头，”妇人说。“放下毯子吧。”没有别的飞机再飞来。其余的飞机一定越过了远处那边的山脊,等隆隆声消失以后，他们走出山洞，来到空地上。天空这时显得空旷、髙爽、蔚蓝、明朗。
“这些飞机仿佛是一场梦,我们现在醒过来了。”玛丽亚对罗伯特 乔丹说。飞机声已经远得几乎听不到了，微弱的嗡嗡声象手指轻轻碰了你一下，放开后又碰一下，现在连最后的难以觉察的嗡嗡声都消失了。
“这不是梦，你进去收拾一下吧。”比拉尔对她说。”怎么办?”她转身对罗伯特 乔丹说。“咱们骑马，还是走去?”巴勃罗瞅她一眼，嘴里哼了一声，“随你便，”罗伯特 乔丹说。“那我们走去吧，”她说。“为了我的肝，我想走走。”“骑马对肝有好处。”
“是啊，不过屁股可受不了。咱们走去，你一”她转身对巴勃罗，“到下面去点点你的牲口，看看有没跟飞机飞掉。”
“你要弄匹马骑骑吗？”巴勃罗问罗伯特 乔丹。
“不要。多谢。那姑娘怎么办？”
“她走走也好，”比拉尔说。“不然她身上好多地方全僵了，要没用啦。”
罗伯特 乔丹觉得脸红了。
“你睡得好吗?”比拉尔问，接着说,“真的没病。本来可能有的。我不懂怎么会没有。说不定天主到底还是有的，虽然我们把他废了。你走你的，”她对巴勃罗说。“不关你的事,这是比你年青的人的事。人家不是你那种料，走吧接着又对罗伯特 乔丹说,“叫奥古斯丁看守你的东西。他一来我们就走，“
天色清澈明朗，阳光温暧。罗伯特，乔丹望着这个脸色棕揭的大个子女人，她长着一双和善的分得很开的眼睛，一张大方脸上有了皱纹，难看却不讨厌，眼睛是欢乐的，但嘴唇不动的时候，脸色是悲伤的。他望着她，随后望着那体格魁梧而呆头呆脑的男人,这时他正穿过树林，朝着马栏走去。那妇人也在望着他的后影。
“你们睡过觉吗？”妇人问。
“她是怎么说的。”
“她不肯告诉我。”
“我也不肯。”
“这么说你们睡过了，”妇人说。“你对她可要尽量小心啊。”
“假如她怀了孩子怎么办?”
“不碍事，”妇人说。“不碍事。”
“在这里可不好办。”
“她不呆在这里。她跟你走。”
“那我上哪里去呢？我不能随身带个女人。”
“谁知道？你带藿两个都行，“
“可不能那么说。”
“听着，”妇人说，”我不是胆小鬼，不过，清早的情况我看得很清楚。我知道，我们眼前的人中间有许多也许再也活不到下―个星期天。”
“今天是星期几?”“星期天。”
“真格的，”罗馅特“乔丹说。“下个星期天还远着呢。我们活到星期三就不错了。不过，我不爱听你说这种话。”
“每个人都得找个人谈谈心里话，”妇人说。“以前我们有宗教和那一套劳什子。现在谁都得找个可以推心置腹的人聊聊,因为不管怎么勇敢的人也觉得非常孤单。”
“我们并不孤单。我们大家在一起。”
“看到那些飞机就叫人上心事。”妇人说。“我们根本对付不了这样的飞机。”
“可是我们能打垮他们。”
“听着，”妇人说。”我对你讲心里的疙瘩，可别以为我决不够。什么也动摇不了我的决心。“
“太阳一升起，悲哀就消啦。悲哀就象雾。”“那当然，”妇人说。“假如你往好处想的话。看来是讲了关于瓦伦西亚的那套无聊话的缘故。是讲了那个去看马的窝囊废的缘故。我讲了过去的事使他伤心了。杀他,行。骂他,行。伤他的心，可不行。”
“你怎么会跟他在一起的。”
“别人是怎么会在一起的？革命刚开始时和开始以前，他算是一条汉子。是响当当的。现在他可完蛋了。塞子拔掉了，皮袋里的酒全流光了。”“我不喜欢他。”
“他也不軎欢你，并且满有道理。昨晚我跟他睡觉。”她这时笑了笑，摇摇头。“咱们眼前不谈这个，”她说。“我对他说，‘巴勃罗，你干吗不杀了那个外国佬,
“‘这小伙子不错，比拉尔，’他说。‘这小伙子不错。”“我于是说，‘现在我作主，你明白了？’“‘明白了，比拉尔。明白了他说。后半夜我听到他醒了，一个人在哭。他哭得气咻咻的,难听极了,就象身体里有只野兽在折腾。
“‘你怎么啦，巴勃罗？’我对他说，把他拉过来抱住。〃没什么，比拉尔。没什么。’“‘不。你准有什么地方不对头。’“‘大家，’他说，‘大家抛弃我的情形真叫我伤心。““‘是呀，不过他们支持我，，我说，‘而我是你的女人。”“‘比拉尔。“他说，‘想想火车吧。”他接着说，‘愿天主保佑你，比拉尔。’
〃你提天主干吗？’我对他说。‘你怎么讲这种话？’
“就是，’他说。‘天主和圣母玛利亚。”
〃什么话，天主和圣母玛利亚！’我对他说。‘能这样说话
吗，“’
“‘我怕死，比拉尔，’他说。‘我怕死。你明白吗？’“‘那你给我从床上下去，’我对他说。'一张床上挤不下我、你和你的害怕。’
“那时他害臊了，不作声了，我就睡着了。不过，小伙子，他这个人完蛋了。”
罗伯特 乔丹默不作声。
“我这辈子时不时也会有这种悲哀，”妇人说。“可是跟巴勃罗的不一样。我的悲衮动摇不了我的决心。”
“这我相信。”
“那也许是女人常有的心情。”她说。“也许根本算不了一回事，”她停了一下,接着又说。“我对共和国有很大的幻想。我坚决相信共和国，我有信心。我象那些有宗教信仰的人相信奇迹一样，狂热地相信共和国。”
“我相信你。”
“你也有这同样的信仰吗？”
“信仰共和国？”
“是呀。”
“当然，”他说，希望自己说的是真话。
“我很高兴，”妇人说。“那你不怕吗？"
“死倒不怕，”他说，这是真话。“别的呢？”
“只怕完成不了我应该完成的任务。”
“不象上次那个人怕当俘虏吗？”
“不怕，”他老实说。“有了那种害怕心理，包揪太重,什么也干不成。”
“你是个很冷静的小伙子。”
“不，”他说，“我不这样看。”
“不。你的头脑很冷静。”
“我只是对工作考虑得很多罢了。”
“难道你不喜欢生活的乐趣?”
“喜欢。很甚欢。但是不能妨害我的工作
“你喜欢喝酒，我知道。我看到了。”
“不错。很喜欢。但是也不能妨害我的工作。”
“那么女人呢?”
“也很喜欢,但我不怎么把她们放在心上。”
“你不在乎？”
“在乎。不过人们常说女入能打动你的心，可我还没找到打动我的心的女人，“
“我看你是在撒谦，“
“可能有点儿。〃
“可你喜欢玛丽亚。”
“对。突然之间非常喜欢。”
“我也是。我很喜欢这个丫头。不错。很窖欢，“
“我也是，”罗伯特，乔丹说，感到自己的声音又嘶哑了。“我也是。是呀。”说出来使他很偷快，他很正经地用西班牙语说 “我非常爱她。”
“我们见了‘萆子’后，我让你们俩单独在一起。”罗伯特 乔丹不吭声，过了一会儿才说,那没有必要。”“不，小伙子。有必要。时间不多呀。”“你在手上看出来了？”他问。“不。别再想手相那套胡扯啦。”
凡是对共和国不利的事情她都不爱提，这件事也播在一边。罗伯特 乔丹没说什么。他望着玛丽亚在山洞里收拾碗碟。她擦擦手，转身对他笑笑。她听不清比拉尔在说些什么，但是她对罗伯特“乔丹笑的时候，褐色的脸涨得通红,她接着又对他笑笑。
“还有白天呢。”妇人说。”你们过了一晚，还有白天呢。现在自然没有我当初在瓦伦西亚时的那些玩意儿。可是你们可以采些野草莓或别的什么。”她笑了。
罗伯特，乔丹用手臂搂着她的宽肩膀。“我也喜欢你。”他说。“我很喜欢你。”
“你真是个地道的猎艳能手，”妇人说,被这种亲热的表示弄
榑很窘。“你快把每个人都爱上了。奥古斯丁来了。”
罗伯特’乔丹走进山洞，走向玛丽亚站着的地方。她看他走来，眼晴明亮，脸蛋和脖子又涨红了。
“喂，小兔子，”他说着吻她的嘴。她紧紧拥抱他，凝视着他的脸说。
“喂。噢，喂。喂。”原先坐在桌边抽烟的费尔南多站起身,摇摇头，捡起靠在洞壁的卡宾枪就走出去了。
“真不象话，”他对比拉尔说。“我不軎欢这样。你该管管这
丫头。“
“我在管，”比拉尔说。“那位同志是她的未婚夫。”
“噢，”费尔南多说。“既然这样，他们订了婚，那我就认为很象话啦。”
“我很高兴，”妇人说。
“我也很髙兴，”费尔南多一本正经地赞同。“再见,比拉尔。”
“你上哪儿去?”
“到上面岗哨去接普里米蒂伏的班。”
“你他妈的上哪儿去？”奥古斯丁这时走上前来，问这个一本正经的小个子。
“去值班，”费尔南多理直气壮地说。
“你去值班。”奥古斯丁嘲弄地说。“我操你奶奶的班。”接着转身对那女人，“要我看守的他妈的劳什子在哪里呀。”
“在山洞里，”比拉尔说。“装在两个背包里。你满嘴脏话叫我腻烦
“我操你的膩烦，”奥古斯丁说。
“那就去操你自己吧，”比拉尔不温不火地对他说，
“你妈的，”奥古斯丁回答
“你从来没妈，”比拉尔对他说，双方的骂人话达到了西斑牙语里的最高水平,其内容从不明说,只能意会。
“他们在里面搞什么名堂，“”奥古斯丁这时问，好象在打听什么机密似的。
“不搞什么名堂，”比拉尔对他说。“没什么。我们毕竟是在春天里，你这个畜生。”
“畜生，”奥古斯丁说，玩味着这个词儿。“畜生。还有你呐。你这大婊子养的。我操它的春天。”比拉尔给他肩上一巴攀。
“你呀。”她说，声如洪钟地大笑了，“你骂人翻不出花样。不过劲头倒挺足。你看到飞机没有?”
“我操它们引擎的祖宗，”奥古斯丁点点头，咬着下膊说。
“那才有点儿意思，”比拉尔说。“真有点儿意思。不过干起来实在不容易。”
“飞得那么髙，确实够不着，”奥古斯丁露齿笑着说。“那还用说。不过说说笑话总比担惊受怕强吧。”
“是呀，”巴勃罗的老婆说。“总比担惊受怕强。你这人不错，说笑话很带劲。”
“听着，比拉尔。”奥古斯丁认真地说。“要出事了。是真的。“
“你看怎么样。”
“糟得不能再糟了。飞机可不少轲，太太。可不少啊。”“原来你跟别人一样也给飞机吓着了？”“哪里的话!”奥古斯丁说。“你看他们打算干什么？”“听好，”比拉尔说。“从这小伙子来炸桥看，显然共和国在准备发动一次进攻。从这些飞机来看，显然法西斯分子在准备迎战，不过干吗把飞机亮出来呢?”
“这次战争中蠹事真不少，”奥古斯丁说。“这次战争疯撖得
没底。”
“这很明白，”比拉尔说。“不然我们也不会在这里啦。”“是呀，”奥古斯丁说。“我们疯疯癲癲地混了一年啦。不过,巴勃罗这人挺有判断力。巴勃罗足智多谋。”“你说这话干吗？”“我要说。”
“你可要明白。”比拉尔解释说。“现在要靠智谋来挽救局势已经太晚了，而且他已经失去了判断力。”
“我明自。”奥古斯丁说。“我知道我们得撤走。既然我们必须打胜才能活下去，就必须把桥都炸掉。不过，尽管巴勃罗现在成了胆小鬼,他还是很机灵的。”“我也很机灵啊，“
“不，比拉尔，”奥古斯丁说。“你不机灵。你勇敢。你忠诚。你果断。你有直觉。很果断，很热情。可是你不机灵。““你以为这样?”妇人若有所思地问。“正是，比拉尔。”
“那小伙子很机灵，”妇人说。“又机灵又冷静。头脑非常冷静"
“不错，”奥古斯丁说。“他一定很在行,不然人家不会要他来干这一个了。可是我没看出他机灵。巴勃罗呢，我字,他是机灵的。”
“可是他吓破了胆,成了废物，撤手不干了。”“可还是机灵。”“你说什么？”
“没什么。我要好好想想。当前我们做事要动动脑子，炸桥之后，我们得马上撤走。一切都得有个准备。我们要考虑好到哪里去、怎么走。”“那当然啦。”
这就用得上巴勃罗。这件事必须干得机灵。”
“我信不过巴勃罗。”
“在这件事上，要信任他。”
“不。你不了解他垮到了什么地步。”
“但他很机灵。这件事我们如果干得不机灵，我们就他妈完蛋啦。”
“我得想想，”比拉尔说。“我还有一天时间可以考虑。”
“炸桥是那小伙子的事。”奥古斯丁说。”这方面他准有一手。另一个安排炸火车的，干得多么出色啊。”
“不错，”比拉尔说。“事实上全是他安徘的。”
“你拿出魄力和决断来。”奥古斯丁说。“可是让巴勃罗负责行动，让巴勃穸负责撤退。现在道他研究方案吧。”
“你是个聪明人。”
“聪明，不错。”奥古斯丁说，“可是不精明。这方面，巴勃罗
行。”
“吓破了胆也行?”
“吓破了胆也行。”
“你看炸桥这事怎么样?”
“非干不可。这我知道。有两件事我们非干不可。我们必须离开这里，我们必须打胜仗。要打胜仗就得炸掉桥。”
“巴勃罗如果机灵，为什么看不到这点?”
“因为他自已软弱无能,所以想保持现状，他宁愿保持软弱无能，好象待在一个旋涡里。不过河水在涨。形势逼他改变的话,他会变得机灵的。他非常机灵。”
“幸好那小伙子没把他杀了。”
“真格的。昨晚吉普赛人要我杀掉他。吉普赛人是个畜生。”
“你也是畜生，”她说。“不过是聪明的畜生。”
“你我都聪明，”奥古斯丁说。“不过有能耐的还是巴勃罗！”
“可是叫人受不了。你不知道他垮到了什么地步。”“知道。可是有能酎呀。听着，比拉尔。发动战争只要靠聪明就成。不过要打胜仗却需要能耐和物资。”
“我好好考虑考虑。”她说。“我们现在得动身了。我们已经迟了。”接着提高了嗓门。”英国人1”她喊着。“英国人！来呀，咱们走吧。”
收听单词发音 |
1
bombers
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| n.轰炸机( bomber的名词复数 )；投弹手；安非他明胶囊；大麻叶香烟 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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propellers
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| n.螺旋桨，推进器( propeller的名词复数 ) | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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goggled
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| adj.戴护目镜的v.睁大眼睛瞪视， （惊讶的）转动眼珠( goggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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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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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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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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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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besmirch
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| v.污，糟蹋 | |
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vileness
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| n.讨厌，卑劣 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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relishing
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| v.欣赏( relish的现在分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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foulness
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| n. 纠缠, 卑鄙 | |
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fascists
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| n.法西斯主义的支持者( fascist的名词复数 ) | |
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idiocy
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| n.愚蠢 | |
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eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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