“No,” said Maria. “But I do not want to hear more.”
“I wish you would tell me of it sometime,” Robert Jordan said.
“I will,” Pilar said. “But it is bad for Maria.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Maria said pitifully. “Please, Pilar. And do not tell it if I am there, for I might listen in spite of myself.”
Her lips were working and Robert Jordan thought she would cry.
“Please, Pilar, do not tell it.”
“Do not worry, little cropped head,” Pilar said. “Do not worry. But I will tell the Inglés sometime.”
“But I want to be there when he is there,” Maria said. “Oh, Pilar, do not tell it at all.”
“I will tell it when thou art working.”
“No. No. Please. Let us not tell it at all,” Maria said.
“It is only fair to tell it since I have told what we did,” Pilar said. “But you shall never hear it.”
“Are there no pleasant things to speak of?” Maria said. “Do we have to talk always of horrors?”
“This afternoon,” Pilar said, “thou and Inglés. The two of you can speak of what you wish.”
“Then that the afternoon should come,” Maria said. “That it should come flying.”
“It will come,” Pilar told her. “It will come flying and go the same way and tomorrow will fly, too.”
“This afternoon,” Maria said. “This afternoon. That this afternoon should come.”
11
As they came up, still deep in the shadow of the pines, after dropping down from the high meadow into the wooden valley and climbing up it on a trail that paralleled the stream and then left it to gain, steeply, the top of a rim-rock formation, a man with a carbine stepped out from behind a tree.
“Halt,” he said. Then, “Hola, Pilar. Who is this with thee?”
“An Inglés,” Pilar said. “But with a Christian name–Roberto. And what an obscenity of steepness it is to arrive here.”
“Salud, Camarada,” the guard said to Robert Jordan and put out his hand. “Are you well?”
“Yes,” said Robert Jordan. “And thee?”
“Equally,” the guard said. He was very young, with a light build, thin, rather hawk-nosed face, high cheekbones and gray eyes. He wore no hat, his hair was black and shaggy and his handclasp was strong and friendly. His eyes were friendly too.
“Hello, Maria,” he said to the girl. “You did not tire yourself?”
“Qué va, Joaquín,” the girl said. “We have sat and talked more than we have walked.”
“Are you the dynamiter?” Joaquín asked. “We have heard you were here.”
“We passed the night at Pablo’s,” Robert Jordan said. “Yes, I am the dynamiter.”
“We are glad to see you,” Joaquín said. “Is it for a train?”
“Were you at the last train?” Robert Jordan asked and smiled.
“Was I not,” Joaquín said. “That’s where we got this,” he grinned at Maria. “You are pretty now,” he said to Maria. “Have they told thee how pretty?”
“Shut up, Joaquín, and thank you very much,” Maria said. “You’d be pretty with a haircut.”
“I carried thee,” Joaquín told the girl. “I carried thee over my shoulder.”
“As did many others,” Pilar said in the deep voice. “Who didn’t carry her? Where is the old man?”
“At the camp.”
“Where was he last night?”
“In Segovia.”
“Did he bring news?”
“Yes,” Joaquín said, “there is news.”
“Good or bad?”
“I believe bad.”
“Did you see the planes?”
“Ay,” said Joaquín and shook his head. “Don’t talk to me of that. Comrade Dynamiter, what planes were those?”
“Heinkel one eleven bombers. Heinkel and Fiat pursuit,” Robert Jordan told him.
“What were the big ones with the low wings?”
“Heinkel one elevens.”
“By any names they are as bad,” Joaquín said. “But I am delaying you. I will take you to the commander.”
“The commander?” Pilar asked.
Joaquín nodded seriously. “I like it better than ‘chief,” he said. “It is more military.”
“You are militarizing heavily,” Pilar said and laughed at him.
“No,” Joaquín said. “But I like military terms because it makes orders clearer and for better discipline.”
“Here is one according to thy taste, Inglés,” Pilar said. “A very serious boy.”