"True!"

"You, too, priest!" says Khorre, gruffly. Haggart looks with a
faint smile at his angry, bristled face, and says:

"I rather feel like sending him away. Let him go."

"Well, then, Abbot," says Desfoso, turning around, "we have decided,
in accordance with our conscience--to take the money. Do I speak
properly?"

One voice answers for all:

"Yes."

DESFOSO--Well, sailor, where is the money?

KHORRE--Captain?

HAGGART--Give it to them.

KHORRE (rudely)--Then give me back my knife and my pipe first! Who
is the eldest among you--you? Listen, then: Take crowbars and
shovels and go to the castle. Do you know the tower, the accursed
tower that fell? Go over there--"

He bends down and draws a map on the floor with his crooked finger.
All bend down and look attentively; only the abbot gazes sternly out
of the window, behind which the heavy fog is still grey. Haggart