CHAPTER 3

Theycamedownthelasttwohundredyards,movingcarefullyfromtreetotreeintheshadowsandnow,throughthelastpinesofthesteephillside,thebridgewasonlyfiftyyardsaway.Thelateafternoonsunthatstillcameoverthebrownshoulderofthemountainshowedthebridgedarkagainstthesteepemptinessofthegorge.Itwasasteelbridgeofasinglespanandtherewasasentryboxateachend.Itwaswideenoughfortwomotorcarstopassanditspanned,insolid-flungmetalgrace,adeepgorgeatthebottomofwhich,farbelow,abrookleapedinwhitewaterthroughrocksandbouldersdowntothemainstreamofthepass.

ThesunwasinRobertJordan’seyesandthebridgeshowedonlyinoutline.Thenthesunlessenedandwasgoneandlookingupthroughthetreesatthebrown,roundedheightthatithadgonebehind,hesaw,now,thathenolongerlookedintotheglare,thatthemountainslopewasadelicatenewgreenandthattherewerepatchesofoldsnowunderthecrest.

Thenhewaswatchingthebridgeagaininthesuddenshorttruenessofthelittlelightthatwouldbeleft,andstudyingitsconstruction.Theproblemofitsdemolitionwasnotdifficult.Ashewatchedhetookoutanotebookfromhisbreastpocketandmadeseveralquicklinesketches.Ashemadethedrawingshedidnotfigurethecharges.Hewoulddothatlater.Nowhewasnotingthepointswheretheexplosiveshouldbeplacedinordertocutthesupportofthespananddropasectionofitintothegorge.Itcouldbedoneunhurriedly,scientificallyandcorrectlywithahalfdozenchargeslaidandbracedtoexplodesimultaneously;oritcouldbedoneroughlywithtwobigones.Theywouldneedtobeverybigones,onoppositesidesandshouldgoatthesametime.Hesketchedquicklyandhappily;gladatlasttohavetheproblemunderhishand;gladatlastactuallytobeengageduponit.Thenheshuthisnotebook,pushedthepencilintoitsleatherholderintheedgeoftheflap,putthenotebookinhispocketandbuttonedthepocket.

Whilehehadsketched,Anselmohadbeenwatchingtheroad,thebridgeandthesentryboxes.Hethoughttheyhadcometooclosetothebridgeforsafetyandwhenthesketchingwasfinished,hewasrelieved.

AsRobertJordanbuttonedtheflapofhispocketandthenlayflatbehindthepinetrunk,lookingoutfrombehindit,Anselmoputhishandonhiselbowandpointedwithonefinger.

Inthesentryboxthatfacedtowardthemuptheroad,thesentrywassittingholdinghisrifle,thebayonetfixed,betweenhisknees.Hewassmokingacigaretteandheworeaknittedcapandblanketstylecape.Atfiftyyards,youcouldnotseeanythingabouthisface.RobertJordanputuphisfieldglasses,shadingthelensescarefullywithhiscuppedhandseventhoughtherewasnownosuntomakeaglint,andtherewastherailofthebridgeasclearasthoughyoucouldreachoutandtouchitandtherewasthefaceofthesentysoclearhecouldseethesunkencheeks,theashonthecigaretteandthegreasyshineofthebayonet.Itwasapeasant’sface,thecheekshollowunderthehighcheekbones,thebeardstubbled,theeyesshadedbytheheavybrows,bighandsholdingtherifle,heavybootsshowingbeneaththefoldsoftheblanketcape.Therewasaworn,blackenedleatherwinebottleonthewallofthesentrybox,thereweresomenewspapersandtherewasnotelephone.Therecould,ofcourse,beatelephoneonthesidehecouldnotsee;buttherewerenowiresrunningfromtheboxthatwerevisible.Atelephonelineranalongtheroadanditswireswerecarriedoverthebridge.Therewasacharcoalbrazieroutsidethesentrybox,madefromanoldpetroltinwiththetopcutoffandholespunchedinit,whichrestedontwostones;butheheldnofire.Thereweresomefire-blackenedemptytinsintheashesunderit.

RobertJordanhandedtheglassestoAnselmowholayflatbesidehim.Theoldmangrinnedandshookhishead.Hetappedhisskullbesidehiseyewithonefinger.

“Yaloveo,”hesaidinSpanish.“Ihaveseenhim,”speakingfromthefrontofhismouthwithalmostnomovementofhislipsinthewaythatisquieterthananywhisper.HelookedatthesentryasRobertJordansmiledathimand,pointingwithonefinger,drewtheotheracrosshisthroat.RobertJordannoddedbuthedidnotsmile.

Thesentryboxatthefarendofthebridgefacedawayfromthemanddowntheroadandtheycouldnotseeintoit.Theroad,whichwasbroadandoiledandwellconstructed,madeaturntotheleftatthefarendofthebridgeandthenswungoutofsightaroundacurvetotheright.Atthispointitwasenlargedfromtheoldroadtoitspresentwidthbycuttingintothesolidbastionoftherockonthefarsideofthegorge;anditsleftorwesternedge,lookingdownfromthepassandthebridge,wasmarkedandprotectedbyalineofuprightcutblocksofstonewhereitsedgefellsheerawaytothegorge.Thegorgewasalmostacanyonhere,wherethebrook,thatthebridgewasflungover,mergedwiththemainstreamofthepass.

“Andtheotherpost?”RobertJordanaskedAnselmo.

“Fivehundredmetersbelowthatturn.Intheroadmender’shutthatisbuiltintothesideoftherock.”

“Howmanymen?”RobertJordanasked.

Hewaswatchingthesentryagainwithhisglasses.Thesentryrubbedhiscigaretteoutontheplankwallofthebox,thentookaleathertobaccopouchfromhispocket,openedthepaperofthedeadcigaretteandemptiedtheremnantofusedtobaccointothepouch.Thesentrystoodup,leanedhisrifleagainstthewalloftheboxandstretched,thenpickeduphisrifle,slungitoverhisshoulderandwalkedoutontothebridge.AnselmoflattenedonthegroundandRobertJordanslippedhisglassesintohisshirtpocketandputhisheadwellbehindthepinetree.

“Therearesevenmenandacorporal,”Anselmosaidclosetohisear.“Iinformedmyselffromthegypsy.”

“Wewillgonowassoonasheisquiet,”RobertJordansaid.“Wearetooclose.”

“Hastthouseenwhatthouneedest?”

“Yes.AllthatIneed.”

Itwasgettingcoldquicklynowwiththesundownandthelightwasfailingastheafterglowfromthelastsunlightonthemountainsbehindthemfaded.

“Howdoesitlooktothee?”Anselmosaidsoftlyastheywatchedthesentrywalkacrossthebridgetowardtheotherbox,hisbayonetbrightinthelastoftheafterglow,hisfigureunshapelyintheblanketcoat.

“Verygood,”RobertJordansaid.“Very,verygood.”

“Iamglad,”Anselmosaid.“Shouldwego?Nowthereisnochancethatheseesus.”

Thesentrywasstanding,hisbacktowardthem,atthefarendofthebridge.Fromthegorgecamethenoiseofthestreamintheboulders.Thenthroughthisnoisecameanothernoise,asteady,racketingdroneandtheysawthesentrylookingup,hisknittedcapslantedback,andturningtheirheadsandlookinguptheysaw,highintheeveningsky,threemonoplanesinVformation,showingminuteandsilveryatthatheightwheretherestillwassun,passingunbelievablyquicklyacrossthesky,theirmotorsnowthrobbingsteadily.

“Ours?”Anselmoasked.

“Theyseemso,”RobertJordansaidbutknewthatatthatheightyounevercouldbesure.Theycouldbeaneveningpatrolofeitherside.Butyoualwayssaidpursuitplaneswereoursbecauseitmadepeoplefeelbetter.Bomberswereanothermatter.

Anselmoevidentlyfeltthesame.“Theyareours,”hesaid.“Irecognizethem.TheyareMoscas.”

“Good,”saidRobertJordan.“TheyseemtometobeMoscas,too.”

“TheyareMoscas,”Anselmosaid.

RobertJordancouldhaveputtheglassesonthemandbeensureinstantlybuthepreferrednotto.Itmadenodifferencetohimwhotheyweretonightandifitpleasedtheoldmantohavethembeours,hedidnotwanttotakethemaway.Now,astheymovedoutofsighttowardSevogia,theydidnotlooktobethegreen,redwing-tipped,lowwingRussianconversionoftheBoeingP32thattheSpaniardscalledMoscas.Youcouldnotseethecolorsbutthecutwaswrong.No.ItwasaFascistPatrolcominghome.

Thesentrywasstillstandingatthefarboxwithhisbackturned.

“Letusgo,”RobertJordansaid.Hestartedupthehill,movingcarefullyandtakingadvantageofthecoveruntiltheywereoutofsight.Anselmofollowedhimatahundredyardsdistance.Whentheywerewelloutofsightofthebridge,hestoppedandtheoldmancameupandwentintotheleadandclimbedsteadilythroughthepass,upthesteepslopeinthedark.

“Wehaveaformidableaviation,”theoldmansaidhappily.

“Yes.”

“Andwewillwin.”

“Wehavetowin.”

“Yes.Andafterwehavewonyoumustcometohunt.”

“Tohuntwhat?”

“Theboar,thebear,thewolf,theibex—”

“Youliketohunt?”

“Yes,man.Morethananything.Weallhuntinmyvillage.Youdonotliketohunt?”

“No,”saidRobertJordan.“Idonotliketokillanimals.”

“Withmeitistheopposite,”theoldmansaid.“Idonotliketokillmen.”

“Nobodydoesexceptthosewhoaredisturbedinthehead,”RobertJordansaid.“ButIfeelnothingagainstitwhenitisnecessary.Whenitisforthecause.”

“Itisadifferentthing,though,”Anselmosaid.“Inmyhouse,whenIhadahouse,andnowIhavenohouse,therewerethetusksofboarIhadshotinthelowerforest.TherewerethehidesofwolvesIhadshot.Inthewinter,huntingtheminthesnow.Oneverybigone,IkilledatduskintheoutskirtsofthevillageonmywayhomeonenightinNovember.Therewerefourwolfhidesonthefloorofmyhouse.Theywerewornbysteppingonthembuttheywerewolfhides.TherewerethehornsofibexthatIhadkilledinthehighSierra,andtherewasaneaglestuffedbyanembalmerofbirdsofAvila,withhiswingsspread,andeyesasyellowandrealastheeyesofaneaglealive.Itwasaverybeautifulthingandallofthosethingsgavemegreatpleasuretocontemplate.”

“Yes,”saidRobertJordan.

“OnthedoorofthechurchofmyvillagewasnailedthepawofabearthatIkilledinthespring,findinghimonahillsideinthesnow,overturningalogwiththissamepaw.”

“Whenwasthis?”

“Sixyearsago.AndeverytimeIsawthatpaw,likethehandofaman,butwiththoselongclaws,driedandnailedthroughthepalmtothedoorofthechurch,Ireceivedapleasure.”

“Ofpride?”

“Ofprideofremembranceoftheencounterwiththebearonthathillsideintheearlyspring.Butofthekillingofaman,whoisamanasweare,thereisnothinggoodthatremains.”

“Youcan’tnailhispawtothechurch,”RobertJordansaid.

“No.Suchabarbarityisunthinkable.Yetthehandofamanislikethepawofabear.”

“Soisthechestofamanlikethechestofabear,”RobertJordansaid.“Withthehideremovedfromthebear,therearemanysimilaritiesinthemuscles.”

“Yes,”Anselmosaid.“Thegypsiesbelievethebeartobeabrotherofman.”

“SodotheIndiansinAmerica,”RobertJordansaid.“Andwhentheykillabeartheyapologizetohimandaskhispardon.Theyputhisskullinatreeandtheyaskhimtoforgivethembeforetheyleaveit.”

“Thegipsiesbelievethebeartobeabrothertomanbecausehehasthesamebodybeneathhishide,becausehedrinksbeer,becauseheenjoysmusicandbecausehelikestodance.”

“SoalsobelievetheIndians.”

“AretheIndiansthengipsies?”

“No.Buttheybelievealikeaboutthebear.”

“Clearly.Thegypsiesalsobelieveheisabrotherbecausehestealsforpleasure.”

“Haveyougypsyblood?”

“No.ButIhaveseenmuchofthemandclearly,sincethemovement,more.Therearemanyinthehills.Tothemitisnotasintokilloutsidethetribe.Theydenythis,butitistrue.”

“LiketheMoors.”

“Yes.Butthegypsieshavemanylawstheydonotadmittohaving.Inthewarmanygypsieshavebecomebadagainastheywereinoldentimes.”

“Theydonotunderstandwhythewarismade.Theydonotknowforwhatwefight.”

“No,”Anselmosaid.“Theyonlyknownowthereisawarandpeoplemaykillagainasintheoldentimeswithoutasuretyofpunishment.”

“Youhavekilled?”RobertJordanaskedintheintimacyofthedarkandoftheirdaytogether.

“Yes.Severaltimes.Butnotwithpleasure.Tomeitisasintokillaman.EvenFascistswhomwemustkill.TomethereisagreatdifferencebetweenthebearandthemanandIdonotbelievethewizardryofthegypsiesaboutthebrotherhoodwithanimals.No.Iamagainstallkillingofmen.”

“Yetyouhavekilled.”

“Yes.Andwillagain.ButifIlivelater,Iwilltrytoliveinsuchaway,doingnoharmtoanyone,thatitwillbeforgiven.”

“Bywhom?”

“Whoknows?SincewedonothaveGodhereanymore,neitherHisSonnortheHolyGhost,whoforgives?Idonotknow.”

“YouhavenotGodanymore?”

“No.Man.Certainlynot.IftherewereGod,neverwouldHehavepermittedwhatIhaveseenwithmyeyes.LetthemhaveGod.”

“TheyclaimHim.”

“ClearlyImissHim,havingbeenbroughtupinreligion.Butnowamanmustberesponsibletohimself.”

“Thenitisthyselfwhowillforgivetheeforkilling.”

“Ibelieveso,”Anselmosaid.“SinceyouputitclearlyinthatwayIbelievethatmustbeit.ButwithorwithoutGod,Ithinkitisasintokill.Totakethelifeofanotheristomeverygrave.IwilldoitwhenevernecessarybutIamnotoftheraceofPablo.”

“Towinawarwemustkillourenemies.Thathasalwaysbeentrue.”

“Clearly.Inwarwemustkill.ButIhaveveryrareideas,”Anselmosaid.

Theywerewalkingnowclosetogetherinthedarkandhespokesoftly,sometimesturninghisheadasheclimbed.“IwouldnotkillevenaBishop.Iwouldnotkillaproprietorofanykind.Iwouldmakethemworkeachdayaswehaveworkedinthefieldsandasweworkinthemountainswiththetimbet,alloftherestoftheirlives.Sotheywouldseewhatmanisbornto.Thattheyshouldsleepwherewesleep.Thattheyshouldeatasweeat.Butaboveallthattheyshouldwork.Thustheywouldlearn.”

“Andtheywouldsurvivetoenslavetheeagain.”

“Tokillthemteachesnothing,”Anselmosaid.“Youcannotexterminatethembecausefromtheirseedcomesmorewithgreaterhatred.Prisonisnothing.Prisononlymakeshatred.Thatallourenemiesshouldlearn.”

“Butstillthouhastkilled.”

“Yes,”Anselmosaid.“Manytimesandwillagain.Butnotwithpleasureandregardingitasasin.”

“Andthesentry.Youjokedofkillingthesentry.”

“Thatwasinjoke.Iwouldkillthesentry.Yes.Certainlyandwithaclearheartconsideringourtask.Butnotwithpleasure.”

“Wewillleavethemtothosewhoenjoyit,”RobertJordansaid.“Thereareeightandfive.Thatisthirteenforthosewhoenjoyit.”

“Therearemanyofthosewhoenjoyit,”Anselmosaidinthedark.“Wehavemanyofthose.Moreofthosethanofmenwhowouldserveforabattle.”

“Hastthoueverbeeninabattle?”

“Nay,”theoldmansaid.“WefoughtinSegoviaatthestartofthemovementbutwewerebeatenandweran.Iranwiththeothers.Wedidnottrulyunderstandwhatweweredoing,norhowitshouldbedone.AlsoIhadonlyashotgunwithcartridgesoflargebuckshotandtheguardiacivilhadMausers.Icouldnothitthemwithbuckshotatahundredyards,andatthreehundredyardstheyshotusastheywishedasthoughwewererabbits.Theyshotmuchandwellandwewerelikesheepbeforethem.”Hewassilent.Thenasked,“Thinkestthoutherewillbeabattleatthebridge?”

“Thereisachance.”

“Ihaveneverseenabattlewithoutrunning,”Anselmosaid.“IdonotknowhowIwouldcomportmyself.IamanoldmanandIhavewondered.”

“Iwillrespondforthee,”RobertJordantoldhim.

“Andhastthoubeeninmanybattles?”

“Several.”

“Andwhatthinkestthouofthisofthebridge?”

“FirstIthinkofthebridge.Thatismybusiness.Itisnotdifficulttodestroythebridge.Thenwewillmakethedispositionsfortherest.Forthepreliminaries.Itwillallbewritten.”

“Veryfewofthesepeopleread,”Anselmosaid.

“Itwillbewrittenforeveryone’sknowledgesothatallknow,butalsoitwillbeclearlyexplained.”

“IwilldothattowhichIamassigned,”Anselmosaid.“ButrememberingtheshootinginSegovia,ifthereistobeabattleorevenmuchexchangingofshots,IwouldwishtohaveitveryclearwhatImustdounderallcircumstancestoavoidrunning.IrememberthatIhadagreattendencytorunatSegovia.”

“Wewillbetogether,”RobertJordantoldhim.“Iwilltellyouwhatthereistodoatalltimes.”

“Thenthereisnoproblem,”Anselmosaid.“IcandoanythingthatIamordered.”

“Foruswillbethebridgeandthebattle,shouldtherebeone,”RobertJordansaidandsayingitinthedark,hefeltalittletheatricalbutitsoundedwellinSpanish.

“Itshouldbeofthehighestinterest,”Anselmosaidandhearinghimsayithonestlyandclearlyandwithnopose,neithertheEnglishposeofunderstatementnoranyLatinbravado,RobertJordanthoughthewasveryluckytohavethisoldmanandhavingseenthebridgeandworkedoutandsimplifiedtheproblemitwouldhavebeentosurprisethepostsandblowitinanormalway,heresentedGolz’sorders,andthenecessityforthem.Heresentedthemforwhattheycoulddotohimandforwhattheycoulddotothisoldman.Theywerebadordersallrightforthosewhowouldhavetocarrythemout.

Andthatisnotthewaytothink,hetoldhimself,andthereisnotyou,andtherearenopeoplethatthingsmustnothappento.Neitheryounorthisoldmanisanything.Youareinstrumentstodoyourduty.Therearenecessaryordersthatarenofaultofyoursandthereisabridgeandthatbridgecanbethepointonwhichthefutureofthehumanracecanturn.Asitcanturnoneverythingthathappensinthiswar.Youhaveonlyonethingtodoandyoumustdoit.Onlyonething,hell,hethought.Ifitwereonethingitwaseasy.Stopworrying,youwindybastard,hesaidtohimself.Thinkaboutsomethingelse.

SohethoughtaboutthegirlMaria,withherskin,thehairandtheeyesallthesamegoldentawnybrown,thehairalittledarkerthantherestbutitwouldbelighterasherskintanneddeeper,thesmoothskin,palegoldonthesurfacewithadarknessunderneath.Smoothitwouldbe,allofherbodysmooth,andshemovedawkwardlyasthoughthereweresomethingofherandaboutherthatembarrassedherasthoughitwerevisible,thoughitwasnot,butonlyinhermind.Andsheblushedwhenhelookedather,andshesitting,herhandsclaspedaroundherkneesandtheshirtopenatthethroat,thecupofherbreastsuptiltedagainsttheshirt,andashethoughtofher,histhroatwaschokyandtherewasadifficultyinwalkingandheandAnselmospokenomoreuntiltheoldmansaid,“Nowwegodownthroughtheserocksandtothecamp.”

Astheycamethroughtherocksinthedark,amanspoketothem,“Halt.Whogoes?”Theyheardarifleboltsnickasitwasdrawnbackandthentheknockagainstthewoodasitwaspushedforwardanddownonthestock.

“Comrades,”Anselmosaid.

“Whatcomrades?”

“ComradesofPablo,”theoldmantoldhim.“Dostthounotknowus?”

“Yes,”thevoicesaid.“Butitisanorder.Haveyouthepassword?”

“No.Wecomefrombelow.”

“Iknow,”themansaidinthedark.“Youcomefromthebridge.Iknowallofthat.Theorderisnotmine.Youmustknowthesecondhalfofapassword.”

“Whatisthefirsthalfthen?”RobertJordansaid.

“Ihaveforgottenit,”themansaidinthedarkandlaughed.“Gothenunprintablytothecampfirewiththyobscenedynamite.”

“Thatiscalledguerilladiscipline,”Anselmosaid.“Uncockthypiece.”

“Itisuncocked,”themansaidinthedark.“Iletitdownwithmythumbandforefinger.”

“ThouwiltdothatwithaMausersometimewhichhasnoknurlontheboltanditwillfire.”

“ThisisaMauser,”themansaid.“ButIhaveagripofthumbandforefingerbeyonddescription.AlwaysIletitdownthatway.”

“Whereistheriflepointed?”askedAnselmointothedark.

“Atthee,”themansaid,“allthetimethatIdescendedthebolt.Andwhenthoucomesttothecamp,orderthatsomeoneshouldrelievemebecauseIhaveindescribableandunprintablehungerandIhaveforgottenthepassword.”

“Howartthoucalled?”RobertJordanasked.

“Agustín,”themansaid.“IamcalledAgustínandIamdyingwithboredominthisspot.”

“Wewilltakethemessage,”RobertJordansaidandhethoughthowthewordaburmientowhichmeansboredominSpanishwasawordnopeasantwoulduseinanyotherlanguage.YetitisoneofthemostcommonwordsinthemouthofaSpaniardofanyclass.

“Listentome,”Agustínsaid,andcomingcloseheputhishandonRobertJordan’sshoulder.Thenstrikingaflintandsteeltogetherhehelditupandblowingontheendofthecork,lookedattheyoungman’sfaceinitsglow.

“Youlookliketheotherone,”hesaid.“Butsomethingdifferent.Listen,”heputthelighterdownandstoodholdinghisrifle.“Tellmethis.Isittrueaboutthebridge?”

“Whataboutthebridge?”

“Thatweblowupanobscenebridgeandthenhavetoobscenelywellobscenityourselvesoffoutofthesemountains?”

“Iknownot.”

“Youknownot,”Agustínsaid.“Whatabarbarity!Whosethenisthedynamite?”

“Mine.”

“Andknowestthounotwhatitisfor?Don’ttellmetales.”

“Iknowwhatitisforandsowillyouintime,”RobertJordansaid.“Butnowwegotothecamp.”

“Gototheunprintable,”Agustínsaid.“Andunprintthyself.Butdoyouwantmetotellyousomethingofservicetoyou?”

“Yes,”saidRobertJordan.“Ifitisnotunprintable,”namingtheprincipalobscenitythathadlardedtheconversation.Theman,Agustín,spokesoobscenely,couplinganobscenitytoeverynounasanadjective,usingthesameobscenityasaverb,thatRobertJordanwonderedifhecouldspeakastraightsentence.Agustínlaughedinthedarkwhenheheardtheword.“ItisawayofspeakingIhave.Maybeitisugly.Whoknows?Eachonespeaksaccordingtohismanner.Listentome.Thebridgeisnothingtome.Aswellthebridgeasanotherthing.AlsoIhaveaboredominthesemountains.Thatweshouldgoifitisneeded.Thesemountainssaynothingtome.Thatweshouldleavethem.ButIwouldsayonething.Guardwellthyexplosive.”

“Thankyou,”RobertJordansaid.“Fromthee?”

“No,”Agustínsaid.“FrompeoplelessunprintablyequippedthanI.”

“So?”askedRobertJordan.

“YouunderstandSpanish,”Agustínsaidseriouslynow.“Carewellforthyunprintableexplosive.”

“Thankyou.”

“No.Don’tthankme.Lookafterthystuff.”

“Hasanythinghappenedtoit?”

“No,orIwouldnotwastethytimetalkinginthisfashion.”

“Thankyouallthesame.Wegonowtocamp.”

“Good,”saidAgustín,“andthattheysendsomeoneherewhoknowsthepassword.”

“Willweseeyouatthecamp?”

“Yes,man.Andshortly.”

“Comeon,”RobertJordansaidtoAnselmo.

Theywerewalkingdowntheedgeofthemeadownowandtherewasagraymist.Thegrasswaslushunderfootafterthepineneedleflooroftheforestandthedewonthegrasswetthroughtheircanvasrope-soledshoes.Ahead,throughthetrees,RobertJordancouldseealightwhereheknewthemouthofthecavemustbe.

“Agustínisaverygoodman,”Anselmosaid.“Hespeaksveryfilthilyandalwaysinjokesbutheisaveryseriousman.”

“Youknowhimwell?”

“Yes.Foralongtime.Ihavemuchconfidenceinhim.”

“Andwhathesays?”

“Yes,man.ThisPabloisbadnow,asyoucouldsee.”

“Andthebestthingtodo?”

“Oneshallguarditatalltimes.”

“Who?”

“You.Me.ThewomanandAgustín.Sinceheseesthedanger.”

“Didyouthinkthingswereasbadastheyarehere?”

“No,”Anselmosaid.“Theyhavegonebadveryfast.Butitwasnecessarytocomehere.ThisisthecountryofPabloandofElSordo.Intheircountrywemustdealwiththemunlessitissomethingthatcanbedonealone.”

“AndElSordo?”

“Good,”Anselmosaid.“Asgoodastheotherisbad.”

“Youbelievenowthatheistrulybad?”

“AllafternoonIhavethoughtofitandsincewehaveheardwhatwehaveheard,Ithinknow,yes.Truly.”

“Itwouldnotbebettertoleave,speakingofanotherbridge,andobtainmenfromotherbands?”

“No,”Anselmosaid.“Thisishiscountry.Youcouldnotmovethathewouldnotknowit.Butonemustmovewithmuchprecautions.”