"I wish to speak to Pilar."
"Must I go?"
"Yes."
"What is it?" the woman of Pablo said when the girl had gone over to the mouth of the cave where she stood by the big wineskin, watching the card players.
"The gypsy said I should have--" he began.
"No," the woman interrupted.
"He is mistaken."
"If it is necessary that I--" Robert Jordan said quietly but with difficulty.
"Thee would have done it, I believe," the woman said.
"Nay, it is not necessary.
I was watching thee.
But thy judgment was good."
"But if it is needful--"
"No," the woman said.
"I tell you it is not needful.
The mind of the gypsy is corrupt."
"But in weakness a man can be a great danger."
"No.
Thou dost not understand.
Out of this one has passed all capacity for danger."
"I do not understand."
"Thou art very young still," she said.
"You will understand."
Then, to the girl, "Come, Maria.
We are not talking more."
The girl came over and Robert Jordan reached his hand out and patted her head.
She stroked under his hand like a kitten.
Then he thought that she was going to cry.
But her lips drew up again and she looked at him and smiled.
"Thee would do well to go to bed now," the woman said to Robert Jordan.
"Thou hast had a long journey."
"Good," said Robert Jordan.
"I will get my things."
7
He was asleep in the robe and he had been asleep, he thought, for a long time.
The robe was spread on the forest floor in the lee of the rocks beyond the cave mouth and as he slept, he turned, and turning rolled on his pistol which was fastened by a lanyard to one wrist and had been by his side under the cover when he went to sleep, shoulder and back weary, leg-tired, his muscles pulled with tiredness so that the ground was soft, and simply stretching in the robe against the flannel lining was voluptuous with fatigue.
Waking, he wondered where he was, knew, and then shifted the pistol from under his side and settled happily to stretch back into sleep, his hand on the pillow of his clothing that was bundled neatly around his rope-soled shoes. He had one arm around the pillow.
Then he felt her hand on his shoulder and turned quickly, his right hand holding the pistol under the robe.
"Oh, it is thee," he said and dropping the pistol he reached both arms up and pulled her down.
With his arms around her he could feel her shivering.
"Get in," he said softly.
"It is cold out there."
"No.
I must not."
"Get in," he said.
"And we can talk about it later."
She was trembling and he held her wrist now with one hand and held her lightly with the other arm.
She had turned her head away.
"Get in, little rabbit," he said and kissed her on the back of the neck.
"I am afraid."