For Whom The Bell Tolls

"Que caballo mas bonito," he said and patted the big gray again. "Que caballo mas hermoso. Come on. The faster this gets out of here the better."

He reached down and pulled the light automatic rifle with its ventilated barrel, really a submachine gun built to take the 9 mm. pistol cartridge, from the scabbard, and looked at it. "Look how they are armed," he said. "Look at modern cavalry."

"There's modern cavalry over there on his face," Robert Jordan said. "Vamonos."

"Do you, Andres, saddle and hold the horses in readiness. If you hear firing bring them up to the woods behind the gap. Come with thy arms and leave the women to hold the horses. Fernando, see that my sacks are brought also. Above all, that my sacks are brought carefully. Thou to look after my sacks, too," he said to Pilar. "Thou to verify that they come with the horses. Vamonos," he said. "Let us go."

"The Maria and I will prepare all for leaving," Pilar said. Then to Robert Jordan, "Look at him," nodding at Pablo on the gray horse, sitting him in the heavy-thighed herdsman manner, the horse's nostrils widening as Pablo replaced the clip in the automatic rifle. "See what a horse has done for him."

"That I should have two horses," Robert Jordan said fervently.

"Danger is thy horse."

"Then give me a mule," Robert Jordan grinned.

"Strip me that," he said to Pilar and jerked his head toward where the man lay face down in the snow. "And bring everything, all the letters and papers, and put them in the outside pocket of my sack. Everything, understand?"

"Yes."

"Vamonos," he said.

Pablo rode ahead and the two men followed in a single file in order not to track up the snow. Robert Jordan carried the submachine gun muzzle down, carrying it by its forward hand grip. I wish it took the same ammunition that saddle gun takes, he thought. But it doesn't. This is a German gun. This was old Kashkin's gun.

The sun was coming over the mountains now. A warm wind was blowing and the snow was melting. It was a lovely late spring morning.

Robert Jordan looked back and saw Maria now standing with Pilar. Then she came running up the trail. He dropped behind Primitivo to speak to her.

"Thou," she said. "Can I go with thee?"

"No. Help Pilar."

She was walking behind him and put her hand on his arm.

"I'm coming."

"Nay."

She kept on walking close behind him.

"I could hold the legs of the gun in the way thou told Anselmo."

"Thou wilt hold no legs. Neither of guns nor of nothing."

Walking beside him she reached forward and put her hand in his pocket.

"No," he said. "But take good care of thy wedding shirt."

"Kiss me," she said, "if thou goest."

"Thou art shameless," he said.

"Yes," she said. "Totally."

"Get thee back now. There is much work to do. We may fight here if they follow these horse tracks."

"Thou," she said. "Didst thee see what he wore on his chest?"

"Yes. Why not?"

"It was the Sacred Heart."

"Yes. All the people of Navarre wear it."

"And thou shot for that?"

"No. Below it. Get thee back now."

"Thou," she said. "I saw all."

"Thou saw nothing. One man. One man from a horse. Vete. Get thee back."

"Say that you love me."

"No. Not now."

"Not love me now?"

"Dejamos. Get thee back. One does not do that and love all at the same moment."

"I want to go to hold the legs of the gun and while it speaks love thee all in the same moment."

"Thou art crazy. Get thee back now."

"I am crazy," she said. "I love thee."

"Then get thee back."

"Good. I go. And if thou dost not love me, I love thee enough for both."

He looked at her and smiled through his thinking.

"When you hear firing," he said, "come with the horses. Aid the Pilar with my sacks. It is possible there will be nothing. I hope so."

"I go," she said. "Look what a horse Pablo rides."

The big gray was moving ahead up the trail.

"Yes. But go."

"I go."

Her fist, clenched tight in his pocket, beat hard against his thigh. He looked at her and saw there were tears in her eyes. She pulled her fist out of his pocket and put both arms tight around his neck and kissed him.

"I go," she said. "Me voy. I go."

He looked back and saw her standing there, the first morning sunlight on her brown face and the cropped, tawny, burned-gold hair. She lifted her fist at him and turned and walked back down the trail, her head down.

Primitivo turned around and looked after her.

"If she did not have her hair cut so short she would be a pretty girl," he said.

"Yes," Robert Jordan said. He was thinking of something else.

"How is she in the bed?" Primitivo asked.

"What?"

"In the bed."

"Watch thy mouth."

"One should not be offended when--"

"Leave it," Robert Jordan said. He was looking at the position.

22

"Cut me pine branches," Robert Jordan said to Primitivo, "and bring them quickly."

"I do not like the gun there," he said to Agustin.

"Why?"

"Place it over there," Robert Jordan pointed, "and later I will tell thee."

"Here, thus. Let me help thee. Here," he said, then squatted down.