"Sailor, go and kill Philipp," and he did it, for he loves you and
respects you as his superior? Perhaps it happened that way! Tell
me, Haggart. I called you my son, Haggart.

HAGGART--No, I did not order the sailor to do it. I killed Philipp
with my own hand.

Silence.

KHORRE--Noni! Tell them to unfasten my hands and give me back my
pipe.

"Don't be in a hurry," roars the priest. "Be bound awhile,
drunkard! You had better be afraid of an untied rope--it may be
formed into a noose."

But obeying a certain swift movement or glance of Haggart, Mariet
walks over to the sailor and opens the knots of the rope. And again
all look in silence upon her bent, alarmed head. Then they turn
their eyes upon Haggart. Just as they looked at the little ship
before, so they now look at him. And he, too, has forgotten about
the toy. As if aroused from sleep, he surveys the fishermen, and
stares long at the dark curtain.

ABBOT--Haggart, I am asking you. Who carried Philipp's body?

HAGGART--I. I brought it and put it near the door, his head against
the door, his face against the sea. It was hard to set him that way,
he was always falling down. But I did it.