Haggart also looks at her bent, alarmed head.
"Thank you," he says, straightening his hands.
"It would be a good thing to untie my hands, too," said Khorre, but there is no answer.
ABBOT--Haggart, did you kill Philipp?
HAGGART--I.
ABBOT--Do you mean to say--eh, you, Haggart--that you yourself killed him with your own hands?
Perhaps you said to the sailor: "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.