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For Whom The Bell Tolls

"Then some one hit the drunkard a great blow alongside the head with a flail and he fell back, and lying on the ground, he looked up at the man who had hit him and then shut his eyes and crossed his hands on his chest, and lay there beside Don Anastasio as though he were asleep. The man did not hit him again and he lay there and he was still there when they picked up Don Anastasio and put him with the others in the cart that hauled them all over to the cliff where they were thrown over that evening with the others after there had been a cleaning up in the Ayuntamiento. It would have been better for the town if they had thrown over twenty or thirty of the drunkards, especially those of the red-and-black scarves, and if we ever have another revolution I believe they should be destroyed at the start. But then we did not know this. But in the next days we were to learn.

"But that night we did not know what was to come. After the slaying in the Ayuntamiento there was no more killing but we could not have a meeting that night because there were too many drunkards. It was impossible to obtain order and so the meeting was postponed until the next day.

"That night I slept with Pablo. I should not say this to you, guapa, but on the other hand, it is good for you to know everything and at least what I tell you is true. Listen to this, Ingles. It is very curious.

"As I say, that night we ate and it was very curious. It was as after a storm or a flood or a battle and every one was tired and no one spoke much. I, myself, felt hollow and not well and I was full of shame and a sense of wrongdoing and I had a great feeling of oppression and of bad to come, as this morning after the planes. And certainly, bad came within three days.

"Pablo, when we ate, spoke little.

"'Did you like it, Pilar?' he asked finally with his mouth full of roast young goat. We were eating at the inn from where the buses leave and the room was crowded and people were singing and there was difficulty serving.

"'No,' I said. 'Except for Don Faustino, I did not like it.'

"'I liked it,' he said.

"'All of it?' I asked him.

"'All of it,' he said and cut himself a big piece of bread with his knife and commenced to mop up gravy with it. 'All of it, except the priest.'

"'You didn't like it about the priest?' because I knew he hated priests even worse than he hated fascists.

"'He was a disillusionment to me,' Pablo said sadly.

"So many people were singing that we had to almost shout to hear one another.

"'Why?'

"'He died very badly,' Pablo said. 'He had very little dignity.'

"'How did you want him to have dignity when he was being chased by the mob?' I said. 'I thought he had much dignity all the time before. All the dignity that one could have.'

"'Yes,' Pablo said. 'But in the last minute he was frightened.'

"'Who wouldn't be?' I said. 'Did you see what they were chasing him with?'

"'Why would I not see?' Pablo said. 'But I find he died badly.'

"'In such circumstances any one dies badly,' I told him. 'What do you want for your money? Everything that happened in the Ayuntamiento was scabrous.'

"'Yes,' said Pablo. 'There was little organization. But a priest. He has an example to set.'

"'I thought you hated priests.'

"'Yes,' said Pablo and cut some more bread. 'But a Spanish

priest. A Spanish priest should die very well.'

"'I think he died well enough,' I said. 'Being deprived of all formality.'

"'No,' Pablo said. 'To me he was a great disillusionment. All day I had waited for the death of the priest. I had thought he would be the last to enter the lines. I awaited it with great anticipation. I expected something of a culmination. I had never seen a priest die.'

"'There is time,' I said to him sarcastically. 'Only today did the movement start.'

"'No,' he said. 'I am disillusioned.'

"'Now,' I said. 'I suppose you will lose your faith.'

"'You do not understand, Pilai' he said. 'He was a Spanish priest.'

"'What people the Spaniards are,' I said to him. And what a people they are for pride, eh, Ingles?

What a people."

"We must get on," Robert Jordan said. He looked at the sun. "It's nearly noon."

"Yes," Pilar said. "We will go now. But let me tell you about Pablo. That night he said to me, 'Pilar, tonight we will do nothing.'

"'Good,' I told him. 'That pleases me.'

"'I think it would be bad taste after the killing of so many people.'

"'Que va,' I told him. 'What a saint you are. You think I lived years with bullfighters not to know how they are after the Corrida?'

"'Is it true, Pilar?' he asked me.