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"
How
many
men
?
"
Robert
Jordan
asked
.
He
was
watching
the
sentry
again
with
his
glasses
.
The
sentry
rubbed
his
cigarette
out
on
the
plank
wall
of
the
box
,
then
took
a
leather
tobacco
pouch
from
his
pocket
,
opened
the
paper
of
the
dead
cigarette
and
emptied
the
remnant
of
used
tobacco
into
the
pouch
.
The
sentry
stood
up
,
leaned
his
rifle
against
the
wall
of
the
box
and
stretched
,
then
picked
up
his
rifle
,
slung
it
over
his
shoulder
and
walked
out
onto
the
bridge
.
Anselmo
flattened
on
the
ground
and
Robert
Jordan
slipped
his
glasses
into
his
shirt
pocket
and
put
his
head
well
behind
the
pine
tree
.
"
There
are
seven
men
and
a
corporal
,
"
Anselmo
said
close
to
his
ear
.
"
I
informed
myself
from
the
gypsy
.
"
"
We
will
go
now
as
soon
as
he
is
quiet
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
.
"
We
are
too
close
.
"
"
Hast
thou
seen
what
thou
needest
?
"
"
Yes
.
All
that
I
need
.
"
It
was
getting
cold
quickly
now
with
the
sun
down
and
the
light
was
failing
as
the
afterglow
from
the
last
sunlight
on
the
mountains
behind
them
faded
.
"
How
does
it
look
to
thee
?
"
Anselmo
said
softly
as
they
watched
the
sentry
walk
across
the
bridge
toward
the
other
box
,
his
bayonet
bright
in
the
last
of
the
afterglow
,
his
figure
unshapely
in
the
blanket
coat
.
"
Very
good
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
.
"
Very
,
very
good
.
"
"
I
am
glad
,
"
Anselmo
said
.
"
Should
we
go
?
Now
there
is
no
chance
that
he
sees
us
.
"
