you need yours."

"He was Mariet's betrothed--and--"

"Well?"

"And--I don't want to speak. Why didn't you ask me before, when he was
alive? Now I have killed him."

"But"--says the abbot, and there is a note of entreaty in his heavy
voice. "But it may be that you are already repenting, Haggart? You are a
splendid man, Gart. I know you; when you are sober you cannot hurt even
a fly. Perhaps you were intoxicated--that happens with young people--and
Philipp may have said something to you, and you--"

"No."

"No? Well, then, let it be no. Am I not right, children? But perhaps
something strange came over you--it happens with people--suddenly a red
mist will get into a man's head, the beast will begin to howl in his
breast, and--In such cases one word is enough--"

"No, Philipp did not say anything to me. He passed along the road, when
I jumped out from behind a large rock and stuck a knife into his throat.
He had no time even to be scared. But if you like--" Haggart surveys the
fishermen with his eyes irresolutely--"I feel a little sorry for him.
That is, just a little. Did he make this toy?"

The abbot lowers his head sternly. And Desfoso shouts again, amidst sobs
of approval from the others:

"No! Abbot, you better ask him what he was doing at the church. Dan saw
them from the window. Wouldn't you tell us what you and your accursed
sailor were doing at the church? What were you doing there? Speak."

Haggart looks at the speaker steadfastly and says slowly:

"I talked with the devil."

A muffled rumbling follows. The abbot jumps from his place and roars
furiously:

"Then let him sit on your neck! Eh, Pierre, Jules, tie him down as fast
as you can until morning. And the other one, too. And in the morning--in
the morning, take him away to the city, to the Judges. I don't know
their accursed city laws"--cries the abbot in despair--"but they will
hang you, Haggart! You will dangle on a rope, Haggart!"

Khorre rudely pushes aside the young fisherman who comes over to him
with a rope, and says to Desfoso in a low voice:

"It's an important matter, old man. Go away for a minute--he oughtn't to
hear it," he nods at Haggart.

"I don't trust you."

"You needn't. That's nothing. Noni, there is a little matter here. Come,
come, and don't be afraid. I have no knife."

The people step aside and whisper. Haggart is silently waiting to be
bound, but no one comes over to him. All shudder when Mariet suddenly
commen