n, Gart. You are tired to-night. You don't
answer?

An old fisherman says:

"There used to be a custom in our land, I heard, that a murderer was to
pay a fine for the man he killed. Have you heard about it, Desfoso?"

Another voice is heard:

"Philipp is dead. Philipp is dead already, do you hear, neighbour? Who
is going to support his mother?"

"I haven't enough even for my own! And the fog is rising, neighbour."

"Abbot, did you hear us say: 'Gart is a bad man; Gart is a
good-for-nothing, a city trickster?' No, we said: 'This thing has never
happened here before,'" says Desfoso.

Then a determined voice remarks:

"Gart is a good man! Wild Gart is a good man!"

DESFOSO--If you looked around, abbot, you couldn't find a single, strong
boat here. I haven't enough tar for mine. And the church--is that the
way a good church ought to look? I am not saying it myself, but it comes
out that way--it can't be helped, abbot.

Haggart turns to Mariet and says:

"Do you hear, woman?"

"I do."

"Why don't you spit into their faces?"

"I can't. I love you, Haggart. Are there only ten Commandments of God?
No, there is still another: 'I love you, Haggart.'"

"What sad dreams there are in your land."

The abbot rises and walks over to the fishermen.

"Well, what did you say about the church, old man? You said something
interesting about the church, or was I mistaken?"

He casts a swift glance at Mariet and Haggart.

"It isn't the church alone, abbot. There are four of us old men: Legran,
Stoffle, Puasar, Kornu, and seven old women. Do I say that we are not
going to feed them? Of course, we will, but don't be angry, father--it
is hard! You know it yourself, abbot--old age is no fun."

"I am an old man, too!" begins old Rikke, lisping, but suddenly he
flings his hat angrily to the ground. "Yes, I am an old man. I don't
want any more, that's all! I worked, and now I don't want to work.
That's all! I don't want to work."

He goes out, swinging his hand. All look sympathetically at his stooping
back, at his white tufts of hair. And then they look again at Desfoso,
at his mouth, from which their words come out. A voice says:

"There, Rikke doesn't want to work any more."

All laugh softly and forcedly.

"Suppose we send Gart to the city--what then?" Desfoso goes on, without
looking at Haggart. "Well, the city people will hang him--and then
what? The result will be that a man will be gone, a fisherman will be
gon