“Go away,” he said to Maria and grinned again. “Come back,” he looked at a large watch he pulled out on a leather thong from inside his coat. “Half an hour.”
He motioned to them to sit down on a flattened log that served as a bench and looking at Joaquín, jerked his thumb down the trail in the direction they had come from.
“I’ll walk down with Joaquín and come back,” Maria said.
El Sordo went into the cave and came out with a pinch bottle of Scotch whiskey and three glasses. The bottle was under one arm, and three glasses were in the hand of that arm, a finger in each glass, and his other hand was around the neck of an earthenware jar of water. He put the glasses and the bottle down on the log and set the jug on the ground.
“No ice,” he said to Robert Jordan and handed him the bottle.
“I don’t want any,” Pilar said and covered her glass with her hand.
“Ice last night on ground,” El Sordo said and grinned. “All melt. Ice up there,” El Sordo said and pointed to the snow that showed on the bare crest of the mountains. “Too far.”
Robert Jordan started to pour into El Sordo’s glass but the deaf man shook his head and made a motion for the other to pour for himself.
Robert Jordan poured a big drink of Scotch into the glass and El Sordo watched him eagerly and when he had finished, handed him the water jug and Robert Jordan filled the glass with the cold water that ran in a stream from the earthenware spout as he tipped up the jug.
El Sordo poured himself half a glassful of whiskey and filled the glass with water.
“Wine?” he asked Pilar.
“No. Water.”
“Take it,” he said. “No good,” he said to Robert Jordan and grinned. “Knew many English. Always much whiskey.”
“Where?”
“Ranch,” El Sordo said. “Friends of boss.”
“Where do you get the whiskey?”
“What?” he could not hear.
“You have to shout,” Pilar said. “Into the other ear.”
El Sordo pointed to his better ear and grinned.
“Where do you get the whiskey?” Robert Jordan shouted.
“Make it,” El Sordo said and watched Robert Jordan’s hand check on its way to his mouth with the glass.
“No,” El Sordo said and patted his shoulder. “Joke. Comes from La Granja. Heard last night comes English dynamiter. Good. Very happy. Get whiskey. For you. You like?”
“Very much,” said Robert Jordan. “It’s very good whiskey.”
“Am contented,” Sordo grinned. “Was bringing tonight with information”
“What information?”
Much troop movement.”
Where?
“Segovia. Planes you saw.”
“Yes.”
“Bad, eh?”
“Bad.”
“Troop movement?”
“Much between Villacastín and Segovia. On Valladolid road. Much between Villacastín and San Rafael. Much. Much.”
“What do you think?”
“We prepare something?”
“Possibly.”
“They know. Prepare too.”
“It is possible.”
“Why not blow bridge tonight?”
“Orders.”
“Whose orders?”
“General Staff.”
“So.”
“Is the time of the blowing important?” Pilar asked.
“Of all importance.”
“But if they are moving up troops?”
“I will send Anselmo with a report of all movement and concentrations. He is checking the road.”
“You have some one at road?” Sordo asked.
Robert Jordan did not know how much he had heard. You never know with a deaf man.
“Yes,” he said.
“Me, too. Why not blow bridge now?”
“I have my orders.”
“I don’t like it,” El Sordo said. “This I do not like.”
“Nor I,” said Robert Jordan.
El Sordo shook his head and took a sip of the whiskey. “You want of me?”
“How many men have you?”
“Eight.”
“To cut the telephone, attack the post at the house of the roadmenders, take it, and fall back on the bridge.”
“It is easy.”
“It will all be written out.”
“Don’t trouble. And Pablo?”
“Will cut the telephone below, attack the post at the sawmill, take it and fall back on the bridge.”
“And afterwards for the retreat?” Pilar asked. “We are seven men, two women and five horses. You are,” she shouted into Sordo’s ear.
“Eight men and four horses. Faltan caballos,” he said. “Lacks horses.”
“Seventeen people and nine horses,” Pilar said. “Without accounting for transport.”