“Roberto,” Maria turned and shouted. “Let me stay! Let me stay!”
“I am with thee,” Robert Jordan shouted. “I am with thee now. We are both there. Go!” Then they were out of sight around the corner of the draw and he was soaking wet with sweat and looking at nothing.
Agustín was standing by him.
“Do you want me to shoot thee, Inglés?” he asked, leaning down close. “Quieres? It is nothing.”
“No hace falta,” Robert Jordan said. “Get along. I am very well here.”
“Me cago en la leche que me han dado!” Agustín said. He was crying so he could not see Robert Jordan clearly. “Salud, Inglés.”
“Salud, old one,” Robert Jordan said. He was looking down the slope now. “Look well after the cropped head, wilt thou?”
“There is no problem,” Agustín said. “Thou has what thou needest?”
“There are very few shells for this máquina, so I will keep it,” Robert Jordan said. “Thou canst now get more. For that other and the one of Pablo, yes.”
“I cleaned out the barrel,” Agustín said. “Where thou plugged it in the dirt with the fall.”
“What became of the pack-horse?”
“The gypsy caught it.”
Agustín was on the horse now but he did not want to go. He leaned far over toward the tree where Robert Jordan lay.
“Go on, viejo,” Robert Jordan said to him. “In war there are many things like this.”
“Qué puta es Ia guerra,” Agustín said. “War is a bitchery.”
“Yes, man, yes. But get on with thee.”
“Salud, Inglés,” Agustín said, clenching his right fist.
“Salud,” Robert Jordan said. “But get along, man.”
Agustín wheeled his horse and brought his right fist down as though he cursed again with the motion of it and rode up the draw. All the others had been out of sight long before. He looked back where the draw turned in the timber and waved his fist. Robert Jordan waved and then Agustín, too, was out of sight.. . . Robert Jordan looked down the green slope of the hillside to the road and the bridge. I’m as well this way as any, he thought. It wouldn’t be worth risking getting over on my belly yet, not as close as that thing was to the surface, and I can see better this way.
He felt empty and drained and exhausted from all of it and from them going and his mouth tasted of bile. Now, finally and at last, there was no problem. however all of it had been and however all of it would ever be now, for him, no longer was there any problem.
They were all gone now and he was alone with his back against a tree. He looked down across the green slope, seeing the gray horse where Agustín had shot him, and on down the slope to the road with the timber-covered country behind it. Then he looked at the bridge and across the bridge and watched the activity on the bridge and the road. He could see the trucks now, all down the lower road. The gray of the trucks showed through the trees. Then he looked back up the road to where it came down over the hill. They will be coming soon now, he thought.
Pilar will take care of her as well as any one can. You know that. Pablo must have a sound plan or he would not have tried it. You do not have to worry about Pablo. It does no good to think about Maria. Try to believe what you told her. That is the best. And who says it is not true? Not you. You don’t say it, any more than you would say the things did not happen that happened. Stay with what you believe now. Don’t get cynical. The time is too short and you have just sent her away. Each one does what he can. You can do nothing for yourself but perhaps you can do something for another. Well, we had all our luck in four days. Not four days. It was afternoon when I first got there and it will not be noon today. That makes not quite three days and three nights. Keep it accurate, he said. Quite accurate.