But the town was evidently not going to
fall.
The danger was quite simple and
intelligible.
Certainly the Andalusians were very
ignorant.
As the yellow dawn comes up behind us, the
Andalusiansentry, muffled in his cloak, begins singing.
So we had driven them back, temporarily atleast. It
was perfectly clear that itwould only lead to rioting. Kopp catches my eye and, with
aschoolboy gesture, thumbs his nose at the sound.
I hope I have done so, a little, in the earlier
chapters of thisbook.
Certainly the Andalusians were very
ignorant.
By long searching I managed to collect enough
chipsof dry wood to make a tiny fire. Buenos dias was beginning to replace
salud.
I do not knowquite how they got to this front.
Jorge was his personalfriend and one of his best officers.
Everyone was profoundlyhappy, more happy than I can
convey. It was thekind of shop you see in Bond Street or the Rue de la
Paix.
The doctor was hauling me along by the
arm.
He was too excited to give a veryclear
statement.
Similarincidents had occurred at Figueras and, I
think, at Tarragona.
I had not grasped that this was mainly a mixture of
hope and camouflage. I wentacross to the Comite Local of the P.
It might be ours orit might be the Fascists; nobody
had the dimmest idea which way we were going.
Kopp was waiting inside the parapet with a few
Spaniards. Obviously they were working their way up the communication-trench. They
were disappearing into the darkness.
There was no sign of Jorge or Hiddlestone, so I
creptback. Strangers seldomaddressed you as tu and camarada nowadays; it was usually
senor and usted.
I felt a vague sorrow as I heard him
screaming.
Close in front abugle-call rings out from the
Fascist lines. There was a tremendousnoise of excited voices coming from the Fascist
redoubt.
Upstairs,in the room where militiamen normally went
to draw their pay, another crowd wasseething. Politically there was now no power in
Catalonia except the P.
Irealized that I must get back to the hotel at once
and see if my wife was allright. Two Englishmen were laid low by
sunstroke.
I remember wondering whether I wasfrightened, and
deciding that I was not.
Douglas Moyle felt in his pocket and passed
oneacross.