"Of course, of course, children. I am going with you. Without me,
you will think of the church. I have just been thinking of the
church--of the kind of church you need. Oh, it's hard to get along
with you, people!"

The fishermen go out very slowly--they are purposely lingering.

"The sea is coming," says one. "I can hear it."

"Yes, yes, the sea is coming! Did you understand what he said?"

The few who remained are more hasty in their movements. Some of
them politely bid Haggart farewell.

"Good-bye, Gart."

"I am thinking, Haggart, what kind of a church we need. This one
will not do, it seems. They prayed here a hundred years; now it is
no good, they say. Well, then, it is necessary to have a new one, a
better one. But what shall it be?"

"'Pope's a rogue, Pope's a rogue.' But, then, I am a rogue, too.
Don't you think, Gart, that I am also something of a rogue? One
moment, children, I am with you."

There is some crowding in the doorway. The abbot follows the last
man with his eyes and roars angrily:

"Eh, you, Haggart, murderer! What are you smiling at? You have no
right to despise them like that. They are my children. They have