"El Sordo was here," Pilar said to Robert Jordan. They had come in out of the storm to the smoky warmth of the cave and the woman had motioned Robert Jordan over to her with a nod of her head. "He's gone to look for horses."
"Good. Did he leave any word for me?"
"Only that he had gone for horses."
"And we?"
"_No s嶱," she said. "Look at him."
Robert Jordan had seen Pablo when he came in and Pablo had grinned at him. Now he looked over at him sitting at the board table and grinned and waved his hand.
"_Ingl廥_," Pablo called. "It's still falling, _Ingl廥_."
Robert Jordan nodded at him.
"Let me take thy shoes and dry them," Maria said. "I will hang them here in the smoke of the fire."
"Watch out you don't burn them," Robert Jordan told her. "I don't want to go around here barefoot. What's the matter?" he turned to Pilar. "Is this a meeting? Haven't you any sentries1 out?"
"In this storm? _Qu?va_."
There were six men sitting at the table and leaning back against the wall. Anselmo and Fernando were still shaking the snow from their jackets, beating their trousers and rapping their feet against the wall by the entrance.
"Let me take thy jacket," Maria said. "Do not let the snow melt on it."
Robert Jordan slipped out of his jacket, beat the snow from his trousers, and untied2 his shoes.
"You will get everything wet here," Pilar said.
"It was thee who called me."
"Still there is no impediment to returning to the door for thy brushing."
"Excuse me," Robert Jordan said, standing3 in his bare feet on the dirt floor. "Hunt me a pair of socks, Maria."
"The Lord and Master," Pilar said and poked4 a piece of wood into the fire.
"_Hay que aprovechar el tiempo_," Robert Jordan told her. "You have to take advantage of what time there is."
"It is locked," Maria said.
"Here is the key," and he tossed it over.
"It does not fit this sack."
"It is the other sack. They are on top and at the side."
The girl found the pair of socks, closed the sack, locked it and brought them over with the key.
"Sit down and put them on and rub thy feet well," she said. Robert Jordan grinned at her.
"Thou canst not dry them with thy hair?" he said for Pilar to hear.
"What a swine," she said. "First he is the Lord of the Manor5. Now he is our ex-Lord Himself. Hit him with a chunk6 of wood, Maria."
"Nay," Robert Jordan said to her. "I am joking because I am happy."
"You are happy?"
"Yes," he said. "I think everything goes very well."
"Roberto," Maria said. "Go sit down and dry thy feet and let me bring thee something to drink to warm thee."
"You would think that man had never dampened foot before," Pilar said. "Nor that a flake7 of snow had ever fallen."
Maria brought him a sheepskin and put it on the dirt floor of the cave.
"There," she said. "Keep that under thee until thy shoes are dry."
The sheepskin was fresh dried and not tanned and as Robert Jordan rested his stocking feet on it he could feel it crackle like parchment.
The fire was smoking and Pilar called to Maria, "Blow up the fire, worthless one. This is no smokehouse."
"Blow it thyself," Maria said. "I am searching for the bottle that El Sordo left."
"It is behind his packs," Pilar told her. "Must you care for him as a sucking child?"
"No," Maria said. "As a man who is cold and wet. And a man who has just come to his house. Here it is." She brought the bottle to where Robert Jordan sat. "It is the bottle of this noon. With this bottle one could make a beautiful lamp. When we have electricity again, what a lamp we can make of this bottle." She looked at the pinch-bottle admiringly. "How do you take this, Roberto?"
"I thought I was _Ingl廥_," Robert Jordan said to her.
"I call thee Roberto before the others," she said in a low voice and blushed. "How do you want it, Roberto?"
"Roberto," Pablo said thickly and nodded his head at Robert Jordan. "How do you want it, Don Roberto?"
"Do you want some?" Robert Jordan asked him.
Pablo shook his head. "I am making myself drunk with wine," he said with dignity.
"Go with Bacchus," Robert Jordan said in Spanish.
"Who is Bacchus?" Pablo asked.
"A comrade of thine," Robert Jordan said.
"Never have I heard of him," Pablo said heavily. "Never in these mountains."
"Give a cup to Anselmo," Robert Jordan said to Maria. "It is he who is cold." He was putting on the dry pair of socks and the whiskey and water in the cup tasted clean and thinly warming. But it does not curl around inside of you the way the absinthe does, he thought. There is nothing like absinthe.
Who would imagine they would have whiskey up here, he thought. But La Granja was the most likely place in Spain to find it when you thought it over. Imagine Sordo getting a bottle for the visiting dynamiter8 and then remembering to bring it down and leave it. It wasn't just manners that they had. Manners would have been producing the bottle and having a formal drink. That was what the French would have done and then they would have saved what was left for another occasion. No, the true thoughtfulness of thinking the visitor would like it and then bringing it down for him to enjoy when you yourself were engaged in something where there was every reason to think of no one else but yourself and of nothing but the matter in hand--that was Spanish. One kind of Spanish, he thought. Remembering to bring the whiskey was one of the reasons you loved these people. Don't go romanticizing them, he thought. There are as many sorts of Spanish as there are Americans. But still, bringing the whiskey was very handsome.
"How do you like it?" he asked Anselmo.
The old man was sitting by the fire with a smile on his face, his big hands holding the cup. He shook his head.
"No?" Robert Jordan asked him.
"The child put water in it," Anselmo said.
"Exactly as Roberto takes it," Maria said. "Art thou something special?"
"No," Anselmo told her. "Nothing special at all. But I like to feel it burn as it goes down."
"Give me that," Robert Jordan told the girl, "and pour him some of that which burns."
He tipped the contents of the cup into his own and handed it back empty to the girl, who poured carefully into it from the bottle.
"Ah," Anselmo took the cup, put his head back and let it run down his throat. He looked at Maria standing holding the bottle and winked9 at her, tears coming from both eyes. "That," he said. "That." Then he licked his lips. "That is what kills the worm that haunts us."
"Roberto," Maria said and came over to him, still holding the bottle. "Are you ready to eat?"
"Is it ready?"
"It is ready when you wish it."
"Have the others eaten?"
"All except you, Anselmo and Fernando."
"Let us eat then," he told her. "And thou?"
"Afterwards with Pilar."
"Eat now with us."
"No. It would not be well."
"Come on and eat. In my country a man does not eat before his woman."
"That is thy country. Here it is better to eat after."
"Eat with him," Pablo said, looking up from the table. "Eat with him. Drink with him. Sleep with him. Die with him. Follow the customs of his country."
"Are you drunk?" Robert Jordan said, standing in front of Pablo. The dirty, stubble-faced man looked at him happily.
"Yes," Pablo said. "Where is thy country, _Ingl廥_, where the women eat with the men?"
"In _Estados Unidos_ in the state of Montana."
"Is it there that the men wear skirts as do the women?"
"No. That is in Scotland."
"But listen," Pablo said. "When you wear skirts like that, _Ingl廥_--"
"I don't wear them," Robert Jordan said.
"When you are wearing those skirts," Pablo went on, "what do you wear under them?"
"I don't know what the Scotch10 wear," Robert Jordan said. "I've wondered myself."
"Not the _Escoceses_," Pablo said. "Who cares about the _Escoceses?_ Who cares about anything with a name as rare as that? Not me. I don't care. You, I say, _Ingl廥_. You. What do you wear under your skirts in your country?"
"Twice I have told you that we do not wear skirts," Robert Jordan said. "Neither drunk nor in joke."
"But under your skirts," Pablo insisted. "Since it is well known that you wear skirts. Even the soldiers. I have seen photographs and also I have seen them in the Circus of Price. What do you wear under your skirts, _Ingl廥?_"
"_Los cojones_," Robert Jordan said.
Anselmo laughed and so did the others who were listening; all except Fernando. The sound of the word, of the gross word spoken before the women, was offensive to him.
"Well, that is normal," Pablo said. "But it seems to me that with enough _cojones_ you would not wear skirts."
"Don't let him get started again, _Ingl廥_," the flat-faced man with the broken nose who was called Primitivo said. "He is drunk. Tell me, what do they raise in your country?"
"Cattle and sheep," Robert Jordan said. "Much grain also and beans. And also much beets12 for sugar."
The three were at the table now and the others sat close by except Pablo, who sat by himself in front of a bowl of the wine. It was the same stew13 as the night before and Robert Jordan ate it hungrily.
"In your country there are mountains? With that name surely there are mountains," Primitivo asked politely to make conversation. He was embarrassed at the drunkenness of Pablo.
"Many mountains and very high."
"And are there good pastures?"
"Excellent; high pasture in the summer in forests controlled by the government. Then in the fall the cattle are brought down to the lower ranges."
"Is the land there owned by the peasants?"
"Most land is owned by those who farm it. Originally the land was owned by the state and by living on it and declaring the intent~on of improving it, a man could obtain a title to a hundred and fifty hectares."
"Tell me how this is done," Agust璯 asked. "That is an agrarian14 reform which means something."
Robert Jordan explained the process of homesteading. He had never thought of it before as an agrarian reform.
"That is magnificent," Primitivo said. "Then you have a communism in your country?"
"No. That is done under the Republic."
"For me," Agust璯 said, "everything can be done under the Republic. I see no need for other form of government."
"Do you have no big proprietors15?" Andr廥 asked.
"Many."
"Then there must be abuses."
"Certainly. There are many abuses."
"But you will do away with them?"
"We try to more and more. But there are many abuses still."
"But there are not great estates that must be broken up?"
"Yes. But there are those who believe that taxes will break them up."
"How?"
Robert Jordan, wiping out the stew bowl with bread, explained how the income tax and inheritance tax worked. "But the big estates remain. Also there are taxes on the land," he said.
"But surely the big proprietors and the rich will make a revolution against such taxes. Such taxes appear to me to be revolutionary. They will revolt against the government when they see that they are threatened, exactly as the fascists16 have done here," Primitivo said.
"It is possible."
"Then you will have to fight in your country as we fight here."
"Yes, we will have to fight."
"But are there not many fascists in your country?"
"There are many who do not know they are fascists but will find it out when the time comes."
"But you cannot destroy them until they rebel?"
"No," Robert Jordan said. "We cannot destroy them. But we can educate the people so that they will fear fascism and recognize it as it appears and combat it."
"Do you know where there are no fascists?" Andr廥 asked.
"Where?"
"In the town of Pablo," Andr廥 said and grinned.
"You know what was done in that village?" Primitivo asked Robert Jordan.
"Yes. I have heard the story."
"From Pilar?"
"Yes."
"You could not hear all of it from the woman," Pablo said heavily. "Because she did not see the end of it because she fell from a chair outside of the window."
"You tell him what happened then," Pilar said. "Since I know not the story, let you tell it."
"Nay," Pablo said. "I have never told it."
"No," Pilar said. "And you will not tell it. And now you wish it had not happened."
"No," Pablo said. "That is not true. And if all had killed the fascists as I did we would not have this war. But I would not have had it happen as it happened."
"Why do you say that?" Primitivo asked him. "Are you changing your politics?"
"No. But it was barbarous," Pablo said. "In those days I was very barbarous."
"And now you are drunk," Pilar said.
"Yes," Pablo said. "With your permission."
"I liked you better when you were barbarous," the woman said. "Of all men the drunkard is the foulest17. The thief when he is not stealing is like another. The extortioner does not practise in the home. The murderer when he is at home can wash his hands. But the drunkard stinks18 and vomits19 in his own bed and dissolves his organs in alcohol."
"You are a woman and you do not understand," Pablo said equably. "I am drunk on wine and I would be happy except for those people I have killed. All of them fill me with sorrow." He shook his head lugubriously20.
"Give him some of that which Sordo brought," Pilar said. "Give him something to animate21 him. He is becoming too sad to bear."
"If I could restore them to life, I would," Pablo said.
"Go and obscenity thyself," Agust璯 said to him. "What sort of place is this?"
"I would bring them all back to life," Pablo said sadly. "Every one."
"Thy mother," Agust璯 shouted at him. "Stop talking like this or get out. Those were fascists you killed."
"You heard me," Pablo said. "I would restore them all to life."
"And then you would walk on the water," Pilar said. "In my life I have never seen such a man. Up until yesterday you preserved some remnants of manhood. And today there is not enough of you left to make a sick kitten. Yet you are happy in your soddenness22."
"We should have killed all or none," Pablo nodded his head. "All or none."
"Listen, _Ingl廥_," Agust璯 said. "How did you happen to come to Spain? Pay no attention to Pablo. He is drunk."
"I came first twelve years ago to study the country and the language," Robert Jordan said. "I teach Spanish in a university."
"You look very little like a professoi" Primitivo said.
"He has no beard," Pablo said. "Look at him. He has no beard."
"Are you truly a professor?"
"An instructor23."
"But you teach?"
"Yes."
"But why Spanish?" Andr廥 asked. "Would it not be easier to teach English since you are English?"
"He speaks Spanish as we do," Anselmo said. "Why should he not teach Spanish?"
"Yes. But it is, in a way, presumptuous24 for a foreigner to teach Spanish," Fernando said. "I mean nothing against you, Don Roberto."
"He's a false professor," Pablo said, very pleased with himself. "He hasn't got a beard."
"Surely you know English better," Fernando said. "Would it not be better and easier and clearer to teach English?"
"He doesn't teach it to Spaniards--" Pilar started to intervene.
"I should hope not," Fernando said.
"Let me finish, you mule," Pilar said to him. "He teaches Spanish to Americans. North Americans."
"Can they not speak Spanish?" Fernando asked. "South Americans can."
"Mule," Pilar said. "He teaches Spanish to North Americans who speak English."
"Still and all I think it would be easier for him to teach English if that is what he speaks," Fernando said.
"Can't you hear he speaks Spanish?" Pilar shook her head hopelessly at Robert Jordan.
"Yes. But with an accent."
"Of where?" Robert Jordan asked.
"Of Estremadura," Fernando said primly25.
"Oh my mother," Pilar said. "What a people!"
"It is possible," Robert Jordan said. "I have come here from there."
"As he well knows," Pilar said. "You old maid," she turned to Fernando. "Have you had enough to eat?"
"I could eat more if there is a sufficient quantity," Fernando told her. "And do not think that I wish to say anything against you, Don Roberto--"
"Milk," Agust璯 said simply. "And milk again. Do we make the revolution in order to say Don Roberto to a comrade?"
"For me the revolution is so that all will say Don to all," Fernando said. "Thus should it be under the Republic."
"Milk," Agust璯 said. "Black milk."
"And I still think it would be easier and clearer for Don Roberto to teach English."
"Don Roberto has no beard," Pablo said. "He is a false professor."
"What do you mean, I have no beard?" Robert Jordan said. "What's this?" He stroked his chin and his cheeks where the threeday growth made a blond stubble.
"Not a beard," Pablo said. He shook his head. "That's not a beard." He was almost jovial26 now. "He's a false professor."
"I obscenity in the milk of all," Agust璯 said, "if it does not seem like a lunatic asylum27 here."
"You should drink," Pablo said to him. "To me everything appears normal. Except the lack of beard of Don Roberto."
Maria ran her hand over Robert Jordan's cheek.
"He has a beard," she said to Pablo.
"You should know," Pablo said and Robert Jordan looked at him.
I don't think he is so drunk, Robert Jordan thought. No, not so drunk. And I think I had better watch myself.
"Thou," he said to Pablo. "Do you think this snow will last?"
"What do you think?"
"I asked you."
"Ask another," Pablo told him. "I am not thy service of information. You have a paper from thy service of information. Ask the woman. She commands."
"I asked thee."
"Go and obscenity thyself," Pablo told him. "Thee and the woman and the girl."
"He is drunk," Primitivo said. "Pay him no heed28, _Ingl廥_."
"I do not think he is so drunk," Robert Jordan said.
Maria was standing behind him and Robert Jordan saw Pablo watching her over his shoulder. The small eyes, like a boar's, were watching her out of the round, stubble-covered head and Robert Jordan thought: I have known many killers29 in this war and some before and they were all different; there is no common trait nor feature; nor any such thing as the criminal type; but Pablo is certainly not handsome.
"I don't believe you can drink," he said to Pablo. "Nor that you're drunk."
"I am drunk," Pablo said with dignity. "To drink is nothing. It is to be drunk that is important. _Estoy muy borracho_."
"I doubt it," Robert Jordan told him. "Cowardly, yes."
It was so quiet in the cave, suddenly, that he could hear the hissing30 noise the wood made burning on the hearth31 where Pilar cooked. He heard the sheepskin crackle as he rested his weight on his feet. He thought he could almost hear the snow falling outside. He could not, but he could hear the silence where it fell.
I'd like to kill him and have it over with, Robert Jordan was thinking. I don't know what he is going to do, but it is nothing good. Day after tomorrow is the bridge and this man is bad and he constitutes a danger to the success of the whole enterprise. Come on. Let us get it over with.
Pablo grinned at him and put one finger up and wiped it across his throat. He shook his head that turned only a little each way on his thick, short neck.
"Nay, _Ingl廥_," he said. "Do not provoke me." He looked at Pilar and said to her, "It is not thus that you get rid of me."
"_Sinverguenza_," Robert Jordan said to him, committed now in his own mind to the action. "_Cobarde_."
"It is very possible," Pablo said. "But I am not to be provoked. Take something to drink, _Ingl廥_, and signal to the woman it was not successful."
"Shut thy mouth," Robert Jordan said. "I provoke thee for myself."
"It is not worth the trouble," Pablo told him. "I do not provoke."
"Thou art a _bicho raro_," Robert Jordan said, not wanting to let it go; not wanting to have it fail for the second time; knowing as he spoke11 that this had all been gone through before; having that feeling that he was playing a part from memory of something that he had read or had dreamed, feeling it all moving in a circle.
"Very rare, yes," Pablo said. "Very rare and very drunk. To your health, _Ingl廥_." He dipped a cup in the wine bowl and held it up. "_Salud y cojones_."
He's rare, all right, Robert Jordan thought, and smart, and very complicated. He could no longer hear the fire for the sound of his own breathing.
"Here's to you," Robert Jordan said, and dipped a cup into the wine. Betrayal wouldn't amount to anything without all these pledges, he thought. Pledge up. "_Salud_," he said. "_Salud_ and _Salud_ again," you _salud_, he thought. _Salud_, you _salud_.
"Don Roberto," Pablo said heavily.
"Don Pablo," Robert Jordan said.
"You're no professor," Pablo said, "because you haven't got a beard. And also to do away with me you have to assassinate32 me and, for this, you have not _cojones_."
He was looking at Robert Jordan with his mouth closed so that his lips made a tight line, like the mouth of a fish, Robert Jordan thought. With that head it is like one of those porcupine33 fish that swallow air and swell34 up after they are caught.
"_Salud_, Pablo," Robert Jordan said and raised the cup up and drank from it. "I am learning much from thee."
"I am teaching the professor," Pablo nodded his head. "Come on, Don Roberto, we will be friends."
"We are friends already," Robert Jordan said.
"But now we will be good friends."
"We are good friends already."
"I'm going to get out of here," Agust璯 said. "Truly, it is said that we must eat a ton of it in this life but I have twenty-five pounds of it stuck in each of my ears this minute."
"What is the matter, _negro?_" Pablo said to him. "Do you not like to see friendship between Don Roberto and me?"
"Watch your mouth about calling me _negro_." Agust璯 went over to him and stood in front of Pablo holding his hands low.
"So you are called," Pablo said.
"Not by thee."
"Well, then, _blanco_--"
"Nor that, either."
"What are you then, Red?"
"Yes. Red. _Rojo_. With the Red star of the army and in favor of the Republic. And my name is Agust璯."
"What a patriotic36 man," Pablo said. "Look, _Ingl廥_, what an exemplary patriot35."
Agust璯 hit him hard across the mouth with his left hand, bringing it forward in a slapping, backhand sweep. Pablo sat there. The corners of his mouth were wine-stained and his expression did not change, but Robert Jordan watched his eyes narrow, as a cat's pupils close to vertical37 slits38 in a strong light.
"Nor this," Pablo said. "Do not count on this, woman." He turned his head toward Pilar. "I am not provoked."
Agust璯 hit him again. This time he hit him on the mouth with his closed fist. Robert Jordan was holding his pistol in his hand under the table. He had shoved the safety catch off and he pushed Maria away with his left hand. She moved a little way and he pushed her hard in the ribs39 with his left hand again to make her get really away. She was gone now and he saw her from the corner of his eye, slipping along the side of the cave toward the fire and now Robert Jordan watched Pablo's face.
The round-headed man sat staring at Agust璯 from his flat little eyes. The pupils were even smaller now. He licked his lips then, put up an arm and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looked down and saw the blood on his hand. He ran his tongue over his lips, then spat40.
"Nor that," he said. "I am not a fool. I do not provoke."
"_Cabr鏮_," Agust璯 said.
"You should know," Pablo said. "You know the woman."
Agust璯 hit him again hard in the mouth and Pablo laughed at him, showing the yellow, bad, broken teeth in the reddened line of his mouth.
"Leave it alone," Pablo said and reached with a cup to scoop41 some wine from the bowl. "Nobody here has _cojones_ to kill me and this of the hands is silly."
"_Cobarde_," Agust璯 said.
"Nor words either," Pablo said and made a swishing noise rinsing42 the wine in his mouth. He spat on the floor. "I am far past words."
Agust璯 stood there looking down at him and cursed him, speaking slowly, clearly, bitterly and contemptuously and cursing as steadily43 as though he were dumping manure44 on a field, lifting it with a dung fork out of a wagon45.
"Nor of those," Pablo said. "Leave it, Agust璯. And do not hit me more. Thou wilt46 injure thy hands."
Agust璯 turned from him and went to the door.
"Do not go out," Pablo said. "It is snowing outside. Make thyself comfortable in here."
"And thou! Thou!" Agust璯 turned from the door and spoke to him, putting all his contempt in the single, "_Tu_."
"Yes, me," said Pablo. "I will be alive when you are dead."
He dipped up another cup of wine and raised it to Robert Jordan. "To the professor," he said. Then turned to Pilar. "To the Se隳ra Commander." Then toasted them all, "To all the illusioned ones."
Agust璯 walked over to him and, striking quickly with the side of his hand, knocked the cup out of his hand.
"That is a waste," Pablo said. "That is silly."
Agust璯 said something vile47 to him.
"No," Pablo said, dipping up another cup. "I am drunk, seest thou? When I am not drunk I do not talk. You have never heard me talk much. But an intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend his time with fools."
"Go and obscenity in the milk of thy cowardice48," Pilar said to him. "I know too much about thee and thy cowardice."
"How the woman talks," Pablo said. "I will be going out to see the horses."
"Go and befoul them," Agust璯 said. "Is not that one of thy customs?"
"No," Pablo said and shook his head. He was taking down his big blanket cape49 from the wall and he looked at Agust璯. "Thou," he said, "and thy violence."
"What do you go to do with the horses?" Agust璯 said.
"Look to them," Pablo said.
"Befoul them," Agust璯 said. "Horse lover."
"I care for them very much," Pablo said. "Even from behind they are handsomer and have more sense than these people. Divert yourselves," he said and grinned. "Speak to them of the bridge, _Ingl廥_. Explain their duties in the attack. Tell them how to conduct the retreat. Where will you take them, _Ingl廥_, after the bridge? Where will you take your patriots50? I have thought of it all day while I have been drinking."
"What have you thought?" Agust璯 asked.
"What have I thought?" Pablo said and moved his tongue around exploringly inside his lips. "_Qu?te importa_, what have I thought."
"Say it," Agust璯 said to him.
"Much," Pablo said. He pulled the blanket coat over his head, the roundness of his head protruding51 now from the dirty yellow folds of the blanket. "I have thought much."
"What?" Agust璯 said. "What?"
"I have thought you are a group of illusioned people," Pablo said. "Led by a woman with her brains between her thighs52 and a foreigner who comes to destroy you."
"Get out," Pilar shouted at him. "Get out and fist yourself into the snow. Take your bad milk out of here, you horse exhausted53 _maricon_."
"Thus one talks," Agust璯 said admiringly, but absent-mindedly. He was worried.
"I go," said Pablo. "But I will be back shortly." He lifted the blanket over the door of the cave and stepped out. Then from the door he called, "It's still falling, _Ingl廥_."
〃聋子'来过了，”比拉尔对罗伯特 乔丹说。他们从风雪中走进烟雾弥裡、热气腾腾的山洞里。那妇人点点头，示意罗伯特 乔丹到她身边去。“他去找马了。”“好。他有口信留给我吗？”“他只说去找马了。”“我们怎么办?”“不知道，”她说。“瞧他。”
罗伯特’乔丹进洞的时候就看见了巴勃罗，巴勃罗对他露齿笑笑。这时他坐在板桌边朝他望着，又露齿笑笑，挥挥手。“英国人，”巴勃罗招呼他。“天还在下雪呢，英国人。“罗伯特。乔丹朝他点点头。
“我把你的鞋拿去烤烤干，”玛丽亚说。“我把它挂在这炉灶的烟火上。”
“留心别把鞋烧了。”罗伯特 乔丹对她说。“我不想在这里光着脚板走路。怎么回事?”他转身对比拉尔说。“这是在幵会吗？你派人放了哨没有?”
“在这样的风雪里？亏你说的。”
桌边坐着六个人，背靠在墙上。安塞尔莫和费尔南多仍在洞口拍掉外套和裤子上的雪，朝墙上跺脚。
“把你的外套给我，”玛丽亚说。“别让雪化在农服上。”罗伯特 乔丹轻轻脱下外套,拍掉裤子上的雪，解开鞋带。“这里全要给你弄湿了，”比拉尔说。
“是你招呼我过来的明，““可没人拦住你,不让你回到洞口去拍雪哪。”“对不起。”罗伯特 乔丹说，光着脚踏在泥地上。“找双袜子给我，玛丽亚。”
“夫君吩咐啦，”比拉尔说，向火里添了一块柴。“你得抓紧现有的时间，”罗伯特 乔丹对她说。“背包上着锁。”玛丽亚说。"钥匙在这里，”他把钥匙扔过去。“这不是这只包上的钼匙。”“开另一只包。袜子就在上面边上。”姑娘找到了袜子，关好背包，上，“锁，把袜子和钥匙一起拿过来，
“坐下来穿上袜子,把脚好好揉揉，”她说。罗伯特，乔丹咧嘴朝她笑笑。
“你不能用你的头发来把它们擦干吗，“”他这活是故意说给比拉尔听的。
“真不是人。”她说。“开头象当家的，现在是我们的前任天主啦。拿木柴揍他，玛丽亚。”
“不。”罗伯特“乔丹对她说。“我是幵玩笑，因为心里高兴。”
“你高兴?”
“对。”他说。“看来一切都很顺利，““罗伯托，”玛丽亚说。“坐下，擦干脚,让我拿些喝的给你暖和肤和。”
“听她这么说，你会以为他从没睬湿过脚。”比拉尔说，“身上也从没掉过一片雪花。”
玛丽亚替他拿来一张羊皮，铺在山涧的泥地上。“踩在上面，”她说。“踩在羊皮上，等鞋子干了再穿。”羊皮是刚晾干不久的，还没有鞣过，罗伯特，乔丹把穿着袜子的脚踩在上面，羊皮窸窣作响，象张羊皮纸。
炉火在冒烟，比拉尔对玛丽亚叫道，“扇扇炉火吧，没用的丫头啊。这里可不是熏制作坊。”
“你自己扇吧，”玛丽亚说。“我在找'聋子’留下的酒瓶。”“在他的背包后面，”比拉尔对她说。“你非把他当吃奶的娃娃来照顾不可吗？”
“不，”玛丽亚说。“把他当一个又冷又湿的男人，一个才回家的男人。我到啦。”她把酒瓶拿到罗伯特 乔丹坐着的地方。“这瓶酒就是你今天中午喝过的。瓶子可以做盏漯亮的灯。等再有电的时候,真可以把它做盏灯呢。”她赞赏地看着这只瓶身上有三个大凹痕的酒瓶。“你看它好不好,罗伯托?”
“我原以为我是叫英国人呢，”罗伯特 乔丹对她说。“我要当着大家的面叫你罗伯托。”她红着脸低声说。“你爱喝这酒吗,罗伯托？”
“罗伯托。”巴勃罗嘶哑地说，对罗伯特“乔丹点点头。“你爱喝这酒吗，堂，罗伯托。”
“你要喝点吗?”罗伯特‘乔丹问他。巴勃罗摇摇头。“我正在用葡萄酒把自己灌醉，”他神气地说。
“那你去找巴克斯①吧，”罗伯特‘乔丹用西班牙话说。“巴克斯是谁?”巴勃罗问。
①巴克斯为希腊抻话中面神狄俄尼索斯的别名
“你的同志。”罗伯特 乔丹说。
“我可从没听到过他，”巴勃罗气咻咻地说。“在这山区里从没听到过。”
“给安塞尔莫来一杯，”罗伯特 乔丹对玛丽亚说。“挨冻的是他。”他正在穿上烘干的袜子。杯里兑水的威士忌爽口而暖人。他想 但是不象艾酒那么在肚子里翻腾。什么酒及得上艾酒啊他想谁想得到这儿山里竟有威士忌。不过，要是仔细想想，在西班牙最可能摘到威士忌的地方，就得算拉格兰哈了。想想看，这“聋子”拿出一瓶来请作客的爆破手，并且记在心上，把它带来留在这里。这不光是由于他们的风俗习惯。他们的习愤是拿出瓶子，循规蹈矩地请人喝一杯。法国人就是会这样做的，他们还会把喝剩的留到下一次。是哬，当你干的事使你有充分理由可以奄不顾及别人，只顾你自己,可以毫不顾及别人的亊，只顾你自己手头的事的时候，竟能真心体贴地想到客人会喜欢喝威士忌，并且后来再把它带来让他喝个痛快一这是西班牙人的本色。他想 这是某一种西班牙人的吧。你爱这些人的原因之一，也就是他们想到把威士忌带来。他想，别把他们看得太理想化了。美国人各各不同，西班牙人也如此。不过,带威士忌来这一点还是干得很漂亮。
“你觉得酒怎么样,他问安塞尔莫 老头儿坐在炉边,脸上堆着笑,两只大手捧着杯子。他摇播头。
“不喜欢?”罗伯特‘乔丹问他。
〃小丫头在里头兑了水，”安塞尔莫说。
“罗伯托就是这么喝的嘛，”玛丽亚说，“你就跟人家不一样。“
“不。“安塞尔莫对她说。“一点没什么不一样。我只是喜欢喝下肚火辣辣的劲头。”
“把杯子给我，”罗伯特”乔丹对姑娘说，“给他斟些火辣辣的玩意儿。”
他拿杯里的酒倒在自己杯里，把空杯递给玛丽亚，她小心萁翼地把酒瓶里的酒倒在杯里。
“啊，”安塞尔莫拿起酒杯，一仰脖淮进喉咙。他望望拿着酒瓶站在那儿的玛丽亚，对她眨眨眼睛，眼睛里涌出泪水,对头，”他说。“对头。”他然后舔舔嘴唇。“这才能把我们肚里作怪的蛆虫杀死哪。”
“罗伯托，”玛丽亚走到他身边说，仍然拿着酒瓶。“你要吃饭吗？”
“饭做好了喝？”“你要吃什么时候都行。”“别人吃过了？”
“只有你,安塞尔莫和费尔南多还没吃，““那我们吃吧。”他对她说。“你呢?”“等会儿跟比拉尔一起吃。”“现在跟我们“起吃吧。”
“不。那不好。”
“来，吃吧。在我的国家里，男人不在他女人之前先吃。”“那是你的国家。这里后吃比较合适。” 、
“跟他吃吧，”巴勃罗从桌边抬头说。“跟他吃。跟他喝。跟他睡。跟他死。照他国家的规矩办。”
“你醉了吗?”罗伯特。乔丹站在巴勃罗面前说。这个肮脏的、满脸胡子茬的大汉兴离采烈地望着他。
“不错。”巴勃罗说。“你那个女人跟男人一起吃饭的国家，英国人，在哪里?”
“在美利坚合众国，在蒙大拿州。”
“男人跟女人一样穿裙子的地方,就是那里呜？”
“不。那是苏格兰，“
“可是听着，”巴勃罗说。“你穿裙子时，英国人一”“我不穿裙子，”罗伯特 乔丹说。
“当你穿这种裙子的时候。”巴勃罗顾自说下去，“裙于里面穿什么?”
“我不知道苏格兰人的穿着，”罗伯特 乔丹说。“我自已也想知道。”
“别管苏格兰人，”巴勃罗说。“谁管苏格兰人呀？谁管名称那么希奇古怪的人呀？我不管。我才不管哪。你，我说，英国人。你。在你们国家，你们在裙子里面穿什么?”
“我对你说过两次啦，我们不穿裙子。”罗伯特“乔丹说。“既不是说酒话,也不是讲笑话。”
“可是你在裙子里面穿什么？〃巴勃罗不放松地说。“因为大家知道，你们是穿裙子的。连大兵也穿。我见过照片‘我在马戏场也见过。你在裙子里面穿什么，英国人?”“那两个蛋，”罗伯特 乔丹说。
安塞尔矣哈哈大笑,其他听着的人也笑了，只有费尔南多例外。他认为在女人面前讲这样的粗话有失体统。
“趣,这是合情合理的嘛，”巴勃罗说。“不过我看，你真有了两个蛋 你就不会穿裙子了。”
“别让他再说这种话，英国人，”那个名叫普里米蒂伏的扃脸、断鼻梁的汉子说。“他醉了。跟我讲讲，你们国家种什么庄稼，养计么牲口？”
“牛羊，”罗伯特，乔丹说。“还种很多粮食豆子。还种很多做糖的甜菜。”
这时他们三个坐在桌边，其他人挨在旁边坐着,只有巴勃罗独自坐在一边，面前放着一碗酒。炖肉还是跟昨晚的一样，罗伯特 乔丹狼吞虎咽地吃着。
“你们那里有大山吗？既然叫蒙大拿①，当然有大山啦，”普里米蒂伏客气地问，想打开话匣子。巴勃罗暍醉了酒,使他很窘,“有很多大山，高得很嘟。” 、
“有好牧场吗?”
“好极了；夏天有政府管理的森林里的高原牧场。到秋天，就把牛羊赶到较低的山坡上去放牧。”“那里土地是农民自己的?”
“大多数土地归种地的人所有。土地本来是国家的，不过,如果有人在那里生活，并且表示愿意开垦的话，一个人可以得到一百五十公顷土地。”’
“跟我讲讲,这是怎么回事“奥古斯丁问。“这是种蛮有意思的土地改革呀。”
罗伯特 乔丹讲解了分给定居移民宅地噚的过程。他以前从没想到这算是一种土改。
“真是呱呱叫，”普里米蒂伏说。“这么说你的国家实行共产主义罗？”
“不。那是在共和国领导下进行的。”“依我看，”奥古斯丁说，“在共和国领导下，什么事都办得好。我看不需要别的政府形式了。”“你们没有大业主吧?”安德烈斯问，“有很多。”
“那就一定有弊病罗。”
“当然。有很多
"你们可要想法消灭这些弊病。”
“我们越来越想这样做。不过弊病仍旧很多。”
“有没有很大的产业必须加以限制的?”
“有。不过,有人认为,靠抽税就能限制它们扩展。”
“怎样做法?”
萝伯特 乔丹解释所得税和逋产税的作用，一边用面包抹着炖肉碗。〃不过，大产业还是有的。还有土地也要征税，”他说。
“可是大业主和有钱人准要闹革命来反对这些税啦。我看这些税倒是革命的。他们看到自己要倒痗，准会起来反抗政府,就象法西斯分子在这里千的那样。”“这可能。”
“那么在你们国家里，也得象我们这里“样,必须斗争啦。”
“是啊，我们不斗争不行。”
“不过在你们国家里，法西斯分子不多吧”
“很多，但他们不知道自己就是法西斯分子，不过到头来是会明白过来的。”
“可是，他们不造反,你们就不能消灭他们吧?”“对罗伯特 乔丹说。“我们不能消灭他们。不过我们可以教育人民餐惕法西斯主义，等它一出现就有所认识，向它斗争。”
“你知道什么地方没有法西斯分子?”安德烈斯问。“什么地方?”
“在巴勃罗老家的那个镇上，”安德烈斯说，露齿笑了。“那镇上发生的情况，你知道吧?”普里米蒂伏问罗伯特 乔丹。
“知道。我听说了。”
“是比拉尔讲的?”
“不错。”
“你从那女人嘴里是听不到全部真相的，”巴勃罗气咻咻地说。“她没看到结局，因为她在窗外从椅子上摔下去了。”
“那你把后来的情形给他讲讲吧。”比拉尔说。“既然我不知道,你讲就是了。”
“不，”巴勃罗说。“我从来没对人讲过。”“不错，〃比拉尔说，“你以后也不会讲啦。如今你可希望根本没有发生那件事。”
“不，”巴勃罗说。“这话说得不对。要是大家跟我一样把法西斯分子杀个千净,我们就不会有这场战争了 不过,我但悤当时的情况不象已经发生的那样，“
“你说这话算什么意思?”普里米蒂伏问他。“你在玫变政治见解吗?”
“不。不过当时太狠心了巴勃罗说。“那些日子里我太狠
心了。”
“你现在可醉了。”比拉尔说。“对，”巴勃罗说。“请你包涵。”
“我倒喜欢你狠心的时候，”妇人说。“男人中最讨人厌的是酒鬼。贼不偸的时候就象人样。流氓不在自己家里敲诈勒索。杀人犯在家里会洗手不干。可是酒鬼臭气冲天,在自己床上呕吐,让酒精把他的五脏六腑都烂掉。”
“你是女人,不懂，”巴勃罗心平气和地说。“我喝得烂醉，如果我没有杀过那些人就快活了。那些人叫我伤心不堪。”他忧郁地摇着头。
“拿'聋子’捎来的酒给他一些。”比拉尔说。”给他一些壮壮胆。他伤心得受不住了。”
“要是我有本事使他们复活，我一定干。”巴勃罗说。“去你奶奶的。”奥古斯丁对他说。“这里是什么地方?”“我一定使他们都复活。”巴勃罗伤心地说。“每个人。”“去你妈的，”奥古斯丁朝他大叫。“免了这种话吧，要不就滚出去。你杀的人是法西斯分子嘛。”
“你听见我说的了，”巴勃罗说。“我要使他们都复活。”“那你就能在海面上行走啦①，”比拉尔说。“我一辈子也没见过这样的男人。到昨天为止你还有一点男人气概。今天呢,你还不如一只有病的小猫。你喝得醉麵醺的,还怪髙兴呢。”“那时应该一个也不留，要躭一个也不杀，”巴勃罗点着头说。一一个也不留，要就一个也不杀。”
“听着，英国人，”奥古斯丁说。“你怎么会到西班牙来的？别理巴勃罗。他醉了。”
“我第一次来是在十二年前，为了研究这个国家和西班牙语，
”罗伯特，乔丹说。“我在大学里教西班牙语。”“你可不大象教授啊，”普里米蒂伏说。“他没有胡子，”巴勃罗说。“瞧他，他没胡子。”“你真的是教授吗?”“是讲师。”“反正你教课?”“对。”
“可是干吗教西班牙语呢。”安镰烈斯问 你既然是英国人,教英语不是容易些?”
“他的西班牙语说得跟我们一样。”安塞尔莫说。“干吗他不教西班牙语?”
“对。不过外国人教西班牙语可多少有点自不量力。”费尔南多说。“我可没有反对你的意思,堂‘罗伯托。”
“他是个冒牌教授，”巴勃罗自得其乐地说。“他没有胡子 “你的英语肯定更好些。”费尔南多说。“救英语不是更好些、更容易些、更清楚些?”
“他不是教西班牙人一”比拉尔开始插嘴了。“但愿如此，”费尔南多说。
“让我把话说完,你这个蠹驴,”比拉尔对他说。“他是给美洲人教西班牙语。北美人，“
“他们不会讲西班牙话吗?”费尔南多问。“南美人是会讲的。”
“蠢驴，”比拉尔说。“他教说英语的北美人。“
“不管怎么样，他既然讲英语，我看坯是教英文容易些,费尔南多说。
“难道你没听到他说的西班牙话吗?”比拉尔无可奈何地对罗伯特 乔丹摇摇头。 ‘
“不错。不过带点口音。”“邴里的口音?”罗伯特 乔丹问。“埃斯特雷马杜拉的，”费尔南多一本正经地说。“我的妈呀，”比拉尔说。“这种人哪 ”“可能的。”罗伯特 乔丹说。“我是从那儿来的。”“他自己很清楚。”比拉尔说。“你这个老姑娘。”她扭头对费尔南多说，“你吃够了吗?〃
“东西多的话，我还能吃。”费尔南多对地说。“别以为我的话是反对你，堂‘罗伯托一一”
“奶奶的，”奥古斯丁干脆地说。“操你奶奶的。咱们干革命就是为了对同志称呼堂‘罗伯托吗。”
“依我看，革命就是为了让大家相互称呼‘堂费尔南多说。“共和国领导下就该这样，“
“奶奶的奥古斯丁说。“黑奶奶的。。“我还是认为堂 罗伯托教英语来得容易些、请楚些。”“堂 罗伯托没胡子，”巴勃罗说。“他是冒牌教授。”“你说我没胡子是什么意思。”罗伯特‘乔丹说。“这是什么,他摈摈下巴和脸颊，三天没刮脸，长了一片黄色的短胡须。
“不是胡子，”巴勃罗说。他摇摇头。“那不算胡子，“他这时简直喜气洋洋了。“他是个冒牌教授。“
“我操你们的奶奶，”奥古斯丁说。“这里简直象疯人院，““你该喝酒，”巴勃罗对他说，“依我看,什么都正常,就只是堂”罗伯托没长胡子。”
玛丽亚伸手摸着罗伯特 乔丹的脸颊。“他有胡子，”她对巴勃罗说，
“你当然知道，”巴勃罗说。罗伯特，乔丹对他望着。’罗伯特 乔丹想。”我看他不见得真醉成这样。不，不见得真酔成这样，我看最好还是多加小心。“
“你。”他对巴勃罗说。“你看这场雪会下长吗？”“你看呢?”“我问你。”
“问别人吧。”巴勃罗对他说。“我不是你的情报部。你有情报部的证明文件嘛。问那女人。她当家。”“我问你,”
“去你妈的。”巴勃罗对他说。“你和这女人和这丫头,全见鬼去吧。”
“他醉了，”普里米蒂伏说。“别睬他，英国人。”“我看他没有真的醉成这样”罗伯特，乔丹说。玛丽亚站在他背后。罗伯特 乔丹看到巴勃罗隔着他的肩头在打量着她。他那满脸胡子的圆脑袋上长着两只小跟睛，这双公猪般的小眼睛正在打量着她。罗伯特 乔丹想 我在这次战争中见过不少杀人者，以前也见过一些，他们各不相同；没有相同的特征,没有相同的面貌,也没有所谓天生的凶犯相 不过巴勃罗确实长得丑。
“我看你不会喝酒，”他对巴勃罗说。“我看你也没有喝醉。”“我醉了，”巴劫罗神气地说，“喝酒没什么了不起。喝醉才了不起。我醉得很厉害。”
“我不信，”罗伯特 乔丹对他说。“胆小如鼠，倒是真的。”山洞里颊时鸦雀无声，他听得到比拉尔烧饭的炉灶里柴火发出的咝咝声！他听到自己把全身的分量踩在羊皮上所弄出的窸窣声。他自以为简直能听到洞外的下雪声。他实在听不到，伹能听出落地无声的寂静。
罗伯特 乔丹在想。”我真想把他杀掉，一了百了啊。我不知道他打算耍些什么花招，伹肯定不会有好事。后天早晨就要炸桥,而这家伙真糟糕，他对整个任务的完成实在是危险的罾来吧。我们把这件事了了吧。
巴勃罗朝他露齿笑笑，伸出一只指头,在脖子上一划。他摇摇头，可是脑袋在那又粗又短的脖子上只微微晃动了一下。
“不行，英国人，”他说。“别惹我发火。”他望着比拉尔,对她说，“你想这样把我摘掉可不行。”
“无耻之徒，”罗伯特 乔丹对他说，存心想动手了乡“胆小
由”
“很可能是嘛。”巴勃罗说。“可我才不会让你惹恼呢-喝点儿什么吧，英国人，给那女人打个手势告诉她没成功，”“闭嘴。”罗伯特，乔丹说。“我是自己向你寻事。”“白费心思,巴勃罗对他说。“我才不会被惹恼呢，““你真是个怪物，”罗伯特 乔丹说,不愿就此罢休；不愿这第二次尝试又遭到失敗！他说话时就明白，这种场面以前已演过一遍，“；他感到他正根据记忆 按照耸在书上看到的、或梦中见过的样子在演一个角色,觉得一切在周而复始。
“很怪，是啊，”巴勃罗说。“很怪，并且很醉了。祝你健康，英国人。”他在酒缸里舀了一杯,举起杯子。“祝你健康,有种25。
罗伯特，乔丹想。”是轲,他这个人很怪，很机灵,很不简单。他只听到自己呼吸的声音,听不到炉灶里的声音了。
“为你干杯，”罗伯特-乔丹说，也舀了杯酒。他想，不来上这一套祝酒的玩艺，就谈不上什么背弃自己的打算了。干杯吧。“干杯，”他说。“干杯，再一次干杯。”他想。”你干杯吧。干杯，你干杯吧。
“堂“罗伯托，”巴勃罗气咻咻地说。“堂，巴勃罗。”罗伯特 乔丹说。
“你不是教授，”巴勃罗说，“因为你没长胡子。再说,要把我干掉,只能靠暗杀，伹要这样干，你可没种。”
他望着罗伯特 乔丹，紧闭着嘴，嘴唇抿成一条线。罗伯特‘乔丹想。”真象鱼的嘴。长着这样一个脑袋，就象被捉住后的针钝在吸进空气,把身体胀大，
“干杯，巴勃罗。”罗伯特。乔丹说，举起杯子，喝了一口。“我从你那里学到不少东西。”‘
“我在教教授啦，”巴勃罗点点头。“来吧，堂 罗伯托，我们做个朋友吧。”
“我们已经是朋友了，”罗伯特，乔丹说。“现在我们可要做好朋友啦？
“我们已经是好朋友了。”
“我要离开这里了。”奥古斯丁说。“一点不镨，人家说我们活一辈子至少要听到几顿假话，刚才这一会儿我毎个耳朵里就灌进了二十五磅。”
“你怎么啦，黑鬼?”巴勃罗对他说 “你看到堂‘罗伯托报我做朋友不喜欢吗？”
“你嘴里可别不干不净地叫我黑鬼。”奥古斯丁走到他面前站住了，双手垂在身旁。
“人家就是这样叫你的嘛，”巴勃罗说。“不要你叫。”“行，那么叫白人一”“也不要这样叫。”
“那么叫你什么呢？赤色分子一。“对。赤色分子。佩着部队的红星，拥护共和国。我的名字叫奥古斯丁。”
“好一个爱国者。”巴勃罗说。“瞧，英国人，好一个爱国者。“
奥古斯丁举起左手，反手一挥，狠狼地给了他一巴掌。巴勃罗坐在那儿,嘴角上沾着酒，声色不动，但罗伯特‘乔丹注意到，他眯细了眼睛，就象猫的瞳孔在强光前收缩成一条垂直的狭缝那样。
“这也不行呢，”巴勃罗说。“别指望这么做啦，太太。”他转过头来朝着比拉尔。“我不会被惹恼的，“
奥古斯丁又揍了他一下。他这次紧握了拳头,打在他嘴上。罗伯特“乔丹在桌子下面用手握着手枪。他扳开保险，左手推开玛丽亚。她挪了挪身子，他用左手在她肋骨上又使劲地推了一下，叫她真的走开。地这才走开了。穸伯特‘乔丹从眼梢上瞅见她沿着洞壁朝炉灶悄悄走去，于是才注视着巴勃罗的脸色。
这个困脑袋的汉子坐着，没神的小眼睛瞪着奥古斯丁。这时,瞳孔竟变得更小了。他舔舔嘴屏，举起一条手臂，用手背擦擦嘴，低头一看，看到了手上的血，他用舌头舔着嘴唇,接着唾了一口血水。
这也不行。”他说。“我不是傻瓜。我不会着恼。”
“王八蛋。”奥古斯丁说。
“你哪会不知道。”巴勃罗说。“你了解这女人的嘛。”奥古斯丁又狠狼地给他晡上一拳。巴勃罗冲着他哈哈大笑,染红的嘴里餌出一口黄色的坏牙。
“算了吧，”巴勃罗说，用杯子从缸里舀了些酒。”这里谁也找有种来杀我，挥拳头是傻瓜。““胆小鬼。”奥古斯丁说，
“骂人也是白搭。”巴勃罗说，用酒漱着口，发出咕噜噜噜的声音，然后吐在地上。“骂我，根本是白搭。”
奥古斯丁站在那里,低头望着他，悝吞吞地,一字一句地,刻薄而轻蔑地骂他,一迭连声地骂着，好象正在用粪耙从粪车里一下下地挑起肥料，给地里施肥似的。
“再骂也是白搭，”巴勃罗说。“算了，奥古斯丁。别再揍我啦。你会伤了自已的手。”
奥古斯丁从他身旁走开，朝洞口走去。“别出去。”巴勃罗说。“外面在下雪 你就在里面舒尿一会吧。”
“你！你。”奥古斯丁在门口转身对他说,把他满腔的轻班都放在“你”这个字里面-
“对，就是我。”巴勃罗说。“等你归天的时候，我一定还活
着。”
他又舀了一杯酒，向罗伯特 乔丹举起杯子。"为教授干杯，”他说。然后转身对比拉尔。“为太太司令干杯。”接着为大家祝酒，“为全体痴心妄想的人干杯，“
奥古斯丁走到他面前，用手倏的一砍，打掉了他手中的杯
子。
“把酒糟蹋了，”巴勃罗说。“多蠢哬。”奥古斯丁对他恶毒地骂了一声粗诘。“不，”巴勃罗说，又舀了一杯。“我醉了,你没看到吗？我不醉的时候不大说话。你从没听到过我说这么许多话。不过，聪明人和傻瓜泡时间，有时就不得不喝醉。”
“滚,操你奶奶的怕死鬼，”比拉尔对他说。“你这个怕死鬼，我看透啦。”
“这女人家的嘴多脏啊，”巴勃罗说。“我要出去看马了。”“操它们去吧，”奥古斯丁说。“这不是你的老规矩吗?”“不，”巴勃罗说着摇摇头。他从洞壁上取下毯子式的披风,望望奥古斯丁。“你啊，”他说。“太粗暴了，““你去和马干什么？”奥古斯丁说。“去査看一下。”巴勃罗说。“操它们。”奥古斯丁说。“嫖马客。”“我非常客欢它们。”巴勃罗说。“哪怕从屁股后边望去，它们也要比这帮家伙漂亮些、懂事些。你们自己消遣吧，”他露齿笑笑说。“跟他们谈谈桥吧,英国人。向他们交代袭击时的任务。告诉他们撤走的
收听单词发音 |
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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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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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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flake
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| v.使成薄片；雪片般落下；n.薄片 | |
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dynamiter
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| n.炸药使用者（尤指革命者） | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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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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beets
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| 甜菜( beet的名词复数 )； 甜菜根； （因愤怒、难堪或觉得热而）脸红 | |
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stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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agrarian
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| adj.土地的，农村的，农业的 | |
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proprietors
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| n.所有人，业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
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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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foulest
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| adj.恶劣的( foul的最高级 )；邪恶的；难闻的；下流的 | |
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stinks
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| v.散发出恶臭( stink的第三人称单数 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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vomits
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| 呕吐物( vomit的名词复数 ) | |
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lugubriously
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animate
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| v.赋于生命，鼓励；adj.有生命的，有生气的 | |
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soddenness
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| 意外，突然 | |
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instructor
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| n.指导者，教员，教练 | |
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presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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killers
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| 凶手( killer的名词复数 )； 消灭…者； 致命物； 极难的事 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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assassinate
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| vt.暗杀，行刺，中伤 | |
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porcupine
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| n.豪猪， 箭猪 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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rinsing
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| n.清水，残渣v.漂洗( rinse的现在分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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manure
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| n.粪，肥，肥粒；vt.施肥 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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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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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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patriots
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| 爱国者，爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
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protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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