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"
I
thought
so
,
"
the
Lieutenant
-
Colonel
patted
him
on
the
shoulder
.
"
You
were
with
the
old
man
Anselmo
.
How
is
he
?
"
"
He
is
well
,
my
Lieutenant
-
Colonel
,
"
Andrés
told
him
.
"
Good
.
It
makes
me
happy
,
"
the
Lieutenant
-
Colonel
said
.
The
officer
showed
him
what
he
had
typed
and
he
read
it
over
and
signed
it
.
"
You
must
go
now
quickly
,
"
he
said
to
Gomez
and
Andrés
.
"
Be
careful
with
the
motor
,
"
he
said
to
Gomez
.
"
Use
your
lights
.
Nothing
will
happen
from
a
single
motor
and
you
must
be
careful
.
My
compliments
to
Comrade
General
Golz
.
We
met
after
Peguerinos
.
"
He
shook
hands
with
them
both
.
"
Button
the
papers
inside
thy
shirt
,
"
he
said
.
"
There
is
much
wind
on
a
motor
.
"
After
they
went
out
he
went
to
a
cabinet
,
took
out
a
glass
and
a
bottle
,
and
poured
himself
some
whiskey
and
poured
plain
water
into
it
from
an
earthenware
crock
that
stood
on
the
floor
against
the
wall
.
Then
holding
the
glass
and
sipping
the
whiskey
very
slowly
he
stood
in
front
of
the
big
map
on
the
wall
and
studied
the
offensive
possibilities
in
the
country
above
Navacerrada
.
"
I
am
glad
it
is
Golz
and
not
me
,
"
he
said
finally
to
the
officer
who
sat
at
the
table
The
officer
did
not
answer
and
looking
away
from
the
map
and
at
the
officer
the
Lieutenant
-
Colonel
saw
he
was
asleep
with
his
head
on
his
arms
.
The
Lieutenant
-
Colonel
went
over
to
the
desk
and
pushed
the
two
phones
close
together
so
that
one
touched
the
officer
’
s
head
on
either
side
.
Then
he
walked
to
the
cupboard
,
poured
himself
another
whiskey
,
put
water
in
it
,
and
went
back
to
the
map
again
.
Andrés
,
holding
tight
onto
the
seat
where
Gomez
was
forking
the
motor
,
bent
his
head
against
the
wind
as
the
motorcycle
moved
,
noisily
exploding
,
into
the
light
-
split
darkness
of
the
country
road
that
opened
ahead
sharp
with
the
high
black
of
the
poplars
beside
it
,
dimmed
and
yellow
-
soft
now
as
the
road
dipped
into
the
fog
along
a
stream
bed
,
sharpening
hard
again
as
the
road
rose
and
,
ahead
of
them
at
the
crossroads
,
the
headlight
showed
the
gray
bulk
of
the
empty
trucks
coming
down
from
the
mountains
.
Pablo
stopped
and
dismounted
in
the
dark
.
Robert
Jordan
heard
the
creaking
and
the
heavy
breathing
as
they
all
dismounted
and
the
clinking
of
a
bridle
as
a
horse
tossed
his
head
.
He
smelled
the
horses
and
the
unwashed
and
sour
slept
-
in
-
clothing
smell
of
the
new
men
and
the
wood
-
smoky
sleep
-
stale
smell
of
the
others
who
had
been
in
the
cave
.
Pablo
was
standing
close
to
him
and
he
smelled
the
brassy
,
dead
-
wine
smell
that
came
from
him
like
the
taste
of
a
copper
coin
in
your
mouth
.
He
lit
a
cigarette
,
cupping
his
hand
to
hide
the
light
,
pulled
deep
on
it
,
and
heard
Pablo
say
very
softly
,
"
Get
the
grenade
sack
,
Pilar
,
while
we
hobble
these
.
"
"
Agustín
,
"
Robert
Jordan
said
in
a
whisper
,
"
you
and
Anselmo
come
now
with
me
to
the
bridge
.
Have
you
the
sack
of
pans
for
the
máquina
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
Agustín
said
.
"
Why
not
?
"
