"You!" replies Haggart furiously. "Begone!"

The sailor sullenly gathers his belongings--the pouch, the pipe, and
the flask--and wabbling, goes off. But he does not go far--he sits
down upon a neighbouring rock. Haggart and his wife look at him.



CHAPTER III


The work is ended. Having lost its gloss, the last neglected fish
lies on the ground; even the children are too lazy to pick it up; and
an indifferent, satiated foot treads it into the mud. A quiet,
fatigued conversation goes on, mingled with gay and peaceful laughter.

"What kind of a prayer is our abbot going to say to-day? It is
already time for him to come."

"And do you think it is so easy to compose a good prayer? He is
thinking."

"Selly's basket broke and the fish were falling out. We laughed so
much! It seems so funny to me even now!"

Laughter. Two fishermen look at the sail in the distance.

"All my life I have seen large ships sailing past us. Where are
they going? They disappear beyond the horizon, and I go off to