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"
But
you
will
tell
some
one
of
this
dispatch
?
"
"
Yes
,
man
.
Surely
.
I
know
every
one
of
these
two
Brigades
.
Every
one
comes
through
here
.
I
know
even
up
to
and
through
the
Russians
,
although
only
a
few
speak
Spanish
.
We
will
keep
this
crazy
from
shooting
Spaniards
.
"
"
But
the
dispatch
.
"
"
The
dispatch
,
too
.
Do
not
worry
,
Comrade
.
We
know
how
to
deal
with
this
crazy
.
He
is
only
dangerous
with
his
own
people
.
We
understand
him
now
.
"
"
Bring
in
the
two
prisoners
,
"
came
the
voice
of
André
Marty
.
"
Quereis
echar
un
trago
?
"
the
corporal
asked
.
"
Do
you
want
a
drink
?
"
"
Why
not
?
"
The
corporal
took
a
bottle
of
anis
from
a
cupboard
and
both
Gomez
and
Andrés
drank
.
So
did
the
corporal
.
He
wiped
his
mouth
on
his
hand
.
"
Vamonos
,
"
he
said
.
They
went
out
of
the
guard
room
with
the
swallowed
burn
of
the
anis
warming
their
mouths
,
their
bellies
and
their
hearts
and
walked
down
the
hall
and
entered
the
room
where
Marty
sat
behind
a
long
table
,
his
map
spread
in
front
of
him
,
his
red
-
and
-
blue
pencil
,
with
which
he
played
at
being
a
general
officer
,
in
his
hand
.
To
Andrés
it
was
only
one
more
thing
.
There
had
been
many
tonight
.
There
were
always
many
.
If
your
papers
were
in
order
and
your
heart
was
good
you
were
in
no
danger
.
Eventually
they
turned
you
loose
and
you
were
on
your
way
.
But
the
Inglés
had
said
to
hurry
.
He
knew
now
he
could
never
get
back
for
the
bridge
but
they
had
a
dispatch
to
deliver
and
this
old
man
there
at
the
table
had
put
it
in
his
pocket
.
